


The Rogue Dreams of Stars

by starbirdrampant (ineasako22)



Series: The Rogue Dreams of Stars [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-10-14 03:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 103,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10528008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineasako22/pseuds/starbirdrampant
Summary: With the DEATH STAR destroyed and Imperial forces focused on the task of eliminating the Rebellion, Rebel agents LUKE SKYWALKER and LEIA ORGANA have been sent to an unnamed planet on the Outer Rim in search of a weapon that will aid them in their fight against the Empire.Unbeknownst to them, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, missing since the Clone Wars, is trapped in a stasis pod on the planet’s surface, waiting to be awoken by either the Rebellion… or the Empire.Should they find their wayward father, the twins may set in motion a chain of events that could possibly bring the Sith Lord, DARTH SIDIOUS, to his knees...MEANWHILE, in the Clone Wars, Padawan AHSOKA TANO is left without a master in the throes of an increasingly deadly war. Without Anakin, she must become a Jedi Knight and learn to command the 501st Legion in order to find her way in a Republic that is soon to tear itself apart...





	1. A Grim Awakening

With the DEATH STAR destroyed and Imperial forces focused on the task of eliminating the Rebellion, Rebel agents LUKE SKYWALKER and LEIA ORGANA have been sent to an unnamed planet on the Outer Rim in search of a weapon that will aid them in their fight against the Empire.

Unbeknownst to them, Jedi Knight ANAKIN SKYWALKER, missing since the Clone Wars, is trapped in a stasis pod on the planet’s surface, waiting to be awoken by either the Rebellion… or the Empire.

Should they find their wayward father, the twins may set in motion a chain of events that could possibly bring the Sith Lord, DARTH SIDIOUS, to his knees…

* * *

_Unidentified planetoid, Outer Rim Territories; 3 years after the Battle of Yavin_

A burst of cold air slapped Anakin across the face, clawing at his throat with icy talons as he gasped and choked into wakefulness. Fatigue coiled around his chest like a vise, shortening his breath and pulling at his limbs until even the metal of his right hand was helpless against the pervasive stupor. With gritted teeth, he shoved aside the rising panic and reached for the Force. 

But it also came too slowly to his call, sinking into the edges of his mind as if he were an untrained Initiate…

Or as if it were _blocked_.

Fear flashed through him then, slashing through the fatigue and loosening his joints just enough that he could swing his right hand upward and grab something to…

… but what he found was a barrier.

Smoother than the water-worn meditation benches at the Room of a Thousand Fountains, the barrier arched up and over his waist and chest, pressing close to the top of his head and presumably confining his feet – Anakin wasn’t entirely certain, since his feet were still mostly immobile.

His eyes, clouded by so much sleep dust, finally blinked open – though the chill of the draft across his face made them water – but all he could see was a Stygian blackness, absolute and impenetrable.

 _How did I get here?_ _There was that mission with Obi-wan, but I don’t remember there being anything like whatever this is on that planet, and I certainly wouldn’t have gotten in one. So what–_

The world shook around him. 

Anakin cursed as the shuddering jolt slammed his face against the barrier, sending stars across his non-existent vision. And then he cursed louder as a slow, steady trickle crept down the back of his throat, filling his mouth with the taste of iron.

“That’ll leave a mark, “ he muttered, wriggling his feet to try and regain movement. With so little room at the base of the barrier, his efforts to regain feeling in his feet were taking longer than he would have liked, and the weight on his left boot didn’t help matters.

Annoyed, he snapped his foot sharply to the left, and was rewarded with an oddly familiar metallic _thunk_ as his lightsaber slid off the top of his boot to lay serenely by his shin.

Anakin’s breath caught, his surprise a warm thrill that jolted all the way down to his fingertips, banishing the last of the lethargy that had previously gripped them. And so of course, with the ease of well-ingrained habits, he reached through the Force and _pulled_ his lightsaber to his hand.

Except his saber didn’t move. 

Frowning, Anakin pulled, yanking at his lightsaber with enough force to send it sailing across a room the size of the _Resolute_ ’s hangar bay. 

The lightsaber barely twitched. 

Something colder than even that first blast of air settled low in his stomach as it began to churn with implications. If he couldn’t reach the Force, then… On the edge of panicking, Anakin threw open his mind to the Force, looking for something, anything that would signify that he hadn’t suddenly gone Force-blind, only for his mind to slam into a barrier.

His head rang like someone had shoved a live grenade into a bell before stuffing his head in alongside. Reeling, he pressed his hands _hard_ against the barrier that kept him trapped, fighting the rising urge to vomit. 

Slowly, the dizziness cleared, leaving behind the odd sensation of pinpricks in his mind, like a leg that’s fallen asleep. His mind buzzing, he reached out and cautiously probed the thing that was keeping him from the Force. It felt oddly similar to the pod he found himself in, all smooth and domed and pressed in tight around him. Except where the pod-barrier was cool and hard, the Force-barrier felt oddly spongy.

Cautiously, Anakin prodded at the barrier. The sponginess was patchy at best. In fact, it felt more like the soft spots of a rotting fruit, smooth and picturesque at first glance, but with closer examination, it would give under even the slightest brush of a fingertip.

So he clutched at what few scraps of the Force he could gather and set about pressing his mind against the Force-barrier, looking for weak spots. The spongy patches sparked at his mind like live wires in an engine: annoying, avoidable, and probably the source of his problems. With each pass, he pressed harder, gritting his teeth against the feedback until a headache grew between his temples and along the back of his skull, settling in like a broody gundark. 

Sparks drifted across his vision, accompanied by bright flashes of pain that shivered along his nerves and shoved the taste of iron and copper against his teeth. The barrier wasn’t one hard shell like he’d first assumed, instead it stretched and twisted like taffy under his careful probing, growing thin in some places and thicker in others, but never getting quite thin _enough_ for him to punch through.

He was pushing at one of the thinner parts, his mind focused enough that even his hands were pressing against the strangely warm physical barrier as if that would help, when the pod shivered under his fingertips and Anakin became aware of a slowly brightening twilight leaching through the darkness around him.

The pod shook again, this time rattling like an angry sand-bee, and Anakin shoved _hard_ with the Force and his hands alike as the barriers shuddered and weakened, until all at once, they popped like a soap bubble, leaving him awash in flood of brilliant white light.

With the light came a roar of sound, blasting into him like the winds of a Tatooine sandstorm. His eyes watering, he flinched against the light, even as the roar resolved itself into the muffled rattling of distant blaster-fire, the faint, insistent hum of a lightsaber, and the low murmur of strained voices nearby. 

As he blinked away the tears, the blinding light lessened enough to show a gray laboratory room, unassuming save for the cluster of control panels that surrounded Anakin’s pod.Crouched next to one of the panels was a young woman with brown eyes and dark hair intricately braided in a crown around her head, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration as she examined the read-outs on the displays. As he watched, whatever she saw there seemed enough to satisfy her because she rapidly shunted data onto a datastick and turned to Anakin with a grin of triumph.

“I’m Leia Organa,” she said. “I’m here to rescue you.”

The room shook around them, staggering Leia and toppling several delicate pieces of equipment shoved into a far corner as several muffled explosions sounded in the distance. After the last explosion, a Mandalorian with the most colorful armor Anakin had ever seen, thrust her head inside the door, her helmeted gaze fixed on Leia. 

“Your Highness, we have to go,” she said. “Commander Skywalker says the Imperials are starting to break through the blast doors.”

Anakin blinked. _Commander Skywalker?_ he thought. _But I’m–_

“Right,” Leia said, yanking the datastick out of the port and casually sticking explosive putty to the consoles. “Sorry to rush you, but we need to leave. Can you walk?”

Anakin pushed himself upright, his limbs protesting their lethargy with a vengeance. As Leia turned and called over her shoulder to someone named Luke in the hall, Anakin spied his lightsaber nestled at the foot of the pod, near where his feet had lain, and stealthily slid it into the concealed holster on his wrist, grateful that his robes hid the outline of his weapon.

A mop of sandy hair edged into the doorway, revealing itself to be a young man Leia’s age dressed in pilot’s leathers and holding an activated lightsaber.

“The stormtroopers are almost here, Leia, we need to move fast,” Luke said, deactivating his lightsaber and clipping it to his belt before he reached into the pod to help haul Anakin out, even as Leia slid in under his prosthetic arm to lend her support. Together they made it to the end of the corridor, followed by the Mandalorian, who introduced herself as Sabine. As he lurched down the unfamiliar hallways, Anakin slowly felt strength return to his limbs, seeping into his muscles as the Force slid over the raw patches in his mind, filling the empty hollows the pod had made in his Force-sense.

Countless corridors later, and Anakin was beginning to think that they’d somehow stumbled into a maze. Echoes of blaster-fire hounded them at every turn, and Luke and Leia had backtracked down side hallways more than once. Finally, at one such backtracking, Anakin lifted his arms from Luke and Leia’s supporting shoulders and planted his feet in the middle of the corridor. 

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on,” he said once the others had turned around.

Luke and Leia glanced at each other, an entire conversation passing between them in an instant, before Leia nodded and moved to take up a defensive position back the way they came.

Luke ran a grimy hand through his hair, leaving half of it fluffed into sloppy spikes. “Yeah, I guess you would have questions,” he muttered. Then, louder, “I’m Luke and that was my sister Leia. We’re with the Rebellion and we’re here to make sure you don’t get captured by the Empire.”

Anakin frowned. “What Empire?”

“What Empi–?” Luke peered at Anakin in seeming astonishment. “You’ve never heard of the Empire?”

Anakin felt his stomach sink, but he lifted his chin and looked Luke dead in the eye. “...I’m a Knight of the Jedi Order and a General in the Grand Army of the Republic. Unless I’ve been in that pod a lot longer than I should have, there shouldn’t _be_ an Empire.”

Luke’s face was a picture of abject horror. “The.. Clone Wars? You fought in the Clone Wars?”

“Yes,” Anakin replied warily. His fingers itched for his lightsaber, but he resolutely kept his hands still. 

“I’m so sorry,” Luke said, grief and pity emanating from him like a heavy cloud. “The Clone Wars were over twenty years ago.” The skin around his eyes tightened. “We lost.”

“Lost…?” Anakin whispered, his mind staggering. “That’s not... _How?”_

A tinny squawk forestalled Luke’s answer. “Hey kid, did you get the package? Or do Syndulla and I have to do another pass?”

With an apologetic glance at Anakin, Luke responded _._ “No Han, we found him. We’ll be out soon, on the south side of the complex. Tell the Ghost to lay down cover fire.” He turned back to Anakin. “I’m sorry, but we need to move.”

His thoughts whirled in dizzying circles, but Anakin nodded. “Understood. Lead the way.”

The hallways passed by in a blur, sliding into insignificance against the thoughts churning through Anakin’s head as they ran. He remembered now the planet he’d been on now: a dinky little rock in the Outer Rim territories that barely deserved its classification. He and Obi-wan had gone to find some supposed intel from a dead drop located on said planet, but then his mind went blank. 

_Until you woke up over twenty years in the future,_ Anakin grimaced. _What have you left behind here, Skywalker?_

They stopped in front of a closed door – forcibly sealed, judging by the scorch marks on the control panel – and Luke slid his lightsaber into the door, cutting a wide circle in the metal with no more strain than it took to press a button.. The circle complete, he _pushed_ at the metal, allowing the pieces of the door to slide onto the ground on the other side of the door before motioning the rest of the group through the makeshift opening.

A blaster shot sizzled past Anakin’s ear as the group spilled out into a small courtyard, and – with the ease of long practice – Anakin dropped his saber into his hand and batted the next two shots back towards the white armored troopers pouring out of the alleyway opposite them. He nearly dropped his saber when one of the shots connected, spilling the trooper to the ground in a heap of eerily familiar armor. But… no, there were no designs on the armor, nothing to differentiate the dead man from any of his fellows that stepped over his dead body on their way to attack Anakin and the others. Still, he spared a glance at the troopers attacking them and tucked away his questions, resolving to ask them later.

Beside him, Luke had swung his saber into an active guard and was deflecting blaster fire with as much familiarity as Anakin. Leia and Sabine had spread out to either side, being careful to stay behind the two flashing sabers, and were firing shots off every chance they got. 

Two torpedos impacted the alleyway, sending armored troopers flying. Anakin glanced up as the craft, what looked like a modified VCX-100 freighter, dipped a wing in acknowledgement and banked to come around for another pass. 

“This way,” Luke said, tapping Anakin’s shoulder and motioning towards the now empty alleyway. 

Anakin nodded and slid his lightsaber back into the wrist holster, noticing how Luke’s eyes flicked to his sleeves in curiosity. But despite whatever questions Anakin could see crowding behind his eyes, Luke stayed silent.. 

They made their way through the twisting alleyways until Luke stopped in front of a closed door. After a moment’s press of his hand against the metal, he motioned the Mandalorian – _Sabine_ , Anakin reminded himself – to take care of the lock before stepping aside and taking up a ready stance half a meter away from the door. Anakin eyed the other man curiously but copied him anyways, his lightsaber slipping into his palm as easy as breathing. Leia raised an eyebrow at her brother, but took up her own ready position to the side of the door, out of any potential firing line. The quiet beep of the lock opening forestalled any questions she might have raised, as did the dozen or so troopers that stood on the other side of the door with their blasters drawn. 

Anakin thrust out his hand, palm forward, and _shoved_ with the Force, scattering most of the troopers like dry leaves in a stiff breeze. Sabine and Leia cut through the rest with little effort, their shots toppling troopers like grain as the women unerringly targeted the weak parts of the armor.. Behind him, shouting echoed through the doorway they’d just broken into, followed by the sound of a flood of blaster-fire impacting a lightsaber. Anakin turned to help, but Luke shook his head and waved him towards the one ship in the hangar, a beat-up YT-1300 model Corellian freighter.

A door hissed open somewhere on the other side of the hanger, and more enemies poured in. Grimacing at the sight, Anakin slowly retreated back to the freighter; his saber blurring as he defended against the growing rain of blaster bolts. The freighter’s engines roared to life as soon as his heels touched the loading ramp, and he stood with one foot on the ramp and one on the dusty floor of the hangar, his lightsaber blurring as he deflected blaster-fire.

With a rumble, the freighter began to rise from the hangar, and Anakin stumbled back, narrowly avoiding taking out one of the hydraulics for the loading ramp. He almost turned to yell into the ship about keeping the ramp lowered, but before he could, Luke backflipped into the air and landed lightly on the ramp with barely a stumble before grabbing Anakin’s arm and hustling them both into the ship proper. With the two of them aboard, the freighter rose from the hanger and canted itself upwards, accelerating into the open skies. 

“Understood, Ghost,” Luke said into his comlink. “We’ll rendezvous at Alpha site. Safe flying, Spectre Two.”

“Luke!” came a yell from the cockpit. “We’ve got fighters coming in.I could use some help picking them off!”

“On it!” Luke yelled back, before turning to Anakin. “You any good on a turret?”

Anakin grinned. “It’s been a while, but I remember the concept.”

Luke laughed and turned to a nearby ladder. “Controls are over here.”

Anakin could hear Luke clambering up the ladder as Anakin settled into the worn synth-leather seat.The turret’s controls were stiffer than what Anakin was used to, slow and clunky compared to the his Delta-7B Aethersprite. Though, of course, they handled like a dream compared to the _Twilight’_ s. 

A set of icons lit up his targeting computer: five starfighters, closing in fast across the starboard bow. Anakin spun his turret to meet them, hitting one square on and clipping another. _Fast bastards_ , he mused. _Though you wouldn’t guess from the design_. 

The starfighters were an odd amalgamation of a spherical cockpit and two flat hexagonal “wings” that were attached at a perpendicular angle to the cockpit’s struts. He couldn’t deny that the fighters were _effective_ , but based on looks alone, Anakin would not have figured the ships to be anything better than cheap cannon fodder.

Two more fighters screamed past his turret and Anakin struck both dead center in the spherical cockpit, barely noticing as the hexagonal wings flew off to join the endless amounts of space debris.

“Hey Luke,” he called, blasting another fighter out of the sky. “This ship got a name?”

Luke’s voice filtered in through the comms. “ Millennium Falcon _._ _She’s supposed to be the fastest ship in the Outer Rim, but right now I’m not sure she’s the fastest ship anywh–”_

 _“Hold your banthas, kid,_ ” an annoyed baritone voice responded. _“Chewie and I will get you and your sharpshooting package out of here.”_

 _“Perhaps you could spend less time talking and more time fixing the hyperdrive...again,”_ Leia cut in, her voice crackling heavily over the comms.

 _“I’m on it, your worshipfulness,”_ Han snapped. _“I’m Han Solo by the way,”_ he said to Anakin.

“...Ben. My name is Ben,” Anakin replied, throwing out the first name that came to mind. “Sounds like you might want to check your combustion manifold.”

Han didn’t respond, but the sound of the ship’s engines shifted from a grating hum to a throaty purr.

“ _Well whattayaknow, that did it. Hit it Chewie!_ ”

Anakin pinged one more fighter before the stars blurred around him and the _Falcon_ slid into hyperspace.

“Nice work with the manifold,” Han said as Anakin emerged from the turret bays. “You know your ships.”

“I have to, I’ve flown a G9 Rigger.”

Han winced. “You’ve flown one of those scrap heaps? My condolences.”

Anakin shrugged. “It came in handy on occasion.”

“I bet. Listen, if this Rebellion business doesn’t work out for you, Chewie and I could always use another mechanic. You’re not too bad on the guns either.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure out what this ‘Rebellion business’ even is,” Anakin said, folding his arms across his chest.

“You don’t know what the Rebellion is?” Han blinked. “You been living in Wild Space or something?”

“Or something.”

Silence settled uneasily over the curved corridor as Han’s face fell and he shifted awkwardly under the weight of Anakin’s carefully neutral gaze.

Then Leia emerged from the cockpit, followed by a Wookiee.

“Luke tells me that you were a General in the Clone Wars,” she said, “as well as a Jedi Knight. Is this true?”

Anakin nodded.

“Then you have my condolences, General,” Leia said. “And I’m sure you have some questions.”

“Mostly just one,” Anakin told her. “What did your brother mean by ‘we lost?’”

The silence spoke volumes.

Behind him, Luke spoke, “We should probably move this to the lounge. There’s a lot to talk about.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a subdued group that wound its way through curving corridors until they reached the lounge. Anakin kept quiet, his mind churning over just how much his world changed. Reaching out in the Force didn’t help. His senses only told him that there was a chilling darkness where there used to be interminable light.

It wasn’t a long walk to the lounge, but when they got there, Leia made a bee-line to the lone acceleration couch and fell into a seat, with Luke settling beside her. Han went to prop up a wall, followed by the somewhat familiar looking Wookiee from the cockpit, who stared at Anakin with slightly worrying intensity. But it was the fifth member of the crew that had Anakin straightening with shock as a blue and white astromech droid rolled in from the nearby engineering station and beeped at him in alarm.

“Artoo?” Anakin cried, even as the little droid rushed towards him, warbling excitedly. “Hey buddy, yeah I missed you too, but how are you– I left you on Coruscant. How did you-”

Han coughed, and Anakin pulled himself out of the string of half-formed questions to see Leia and Luke staring at him with identical odd expressions.

Anakin flushed slightly before shoving aside his twinge of embarrassment. “Sorry,” he said. “I just– I know this droid.”

Luke and Leia glanced at each other, and Anakin caught the edge of something passing between them in the Force, but they turned back to him before he could catch it and the moment passed.

“How much do you remember of what happened before you went into the stasis pod?” Luke asked, leaning forward.

Anakin shook his head. “Not much. I was looking for some information to use against the Separatists, then nothing. Next thing I remember is waking up in that lab.” He fixed his gaze on Luke. “What did you mean by ‘we lost?’” 

Luke sighed. “This may be difficult to hear, but–”

Leia cut in. “What my brother’s trying to say is that the Republic fell, twenty-three years ago. There’s only the Empire now.”

“Only the…” Cold sank down Anakin’s spine as the Force shivered at Leia’s words. Distantly, Anakin smelled smoke, and saw the faintest flash of a burning building – the Temple? – out of the corner of his eye. Then Artoo nudged his leg and Anakin slid back into the present, the smell dissipating as if it’d never been. He curled inward, shock and fading adrenaline warring with a gibbering fear in the back of his mind.

“I think,” he swallowed and paused to center himself the way Obi-Wan had taught him – _Master, tell me you didn’t get caught up in this_ – before continuing. “How? What happened?”

“We don’t know all the details,” Luke said. “Most, if not all of it, happened before we were born, or shortly after. What I do know is that the Republic started losing the war, badly, a few years in, and the Jedi were blamed for it. Eventually enough people hated the Jedi that Palpatine was able to pass certain emergency powers that made him Emperor, and the-”

“Palpatine?” Anakin cut in. “I knew him. He was a politician, sure, but he wouldn’t–”

“Emperor Palpatine is a murderer,” Leia spat, “and a coward and–” She cut off as Luke’s hand fell to her shoulder, though her rage and pain and grief still echoed in the Force.

“Maybe he was a better man when you knew him,” Luke said, though the hand not resting on his sister’s shoulder made an aborted twitch towards the lightsaber clipped to his belt, “but he isn’t now.”

“Makes ya wonder though,” Han cut in. “What would change someone so much that he’d approve of destroying a planet just to make a point?”

Anakin’s gaze snapped to him, his mind reeling. “He destroyed a _planet_? What-”

“Alderaan,” Luke replied as Leia’s expression turned to ice.. “He destroyed Alderaan.”

Shock and grief – only some of it his own – rammed into Anakin’s gut, burning into his psyche until he could hardly breathe. Silence fell, like the hush after one of Tatooine’s sandstorms, echoing into every nook and cranny of the ship until even the hyperdrive seemed to lessen its usual incessant hum.

“I’m sorry,” Anakin said at last. “I’m guessing, by your last name, that your father was Bail Organa?”

Leia stared at him, searching for something in his expression before she finally answered. “He was my foster father. He helped teach me how to–” she let out a shuddering breath “–how to prepare myself for the Imperial Senate, among other things. Did you know him?”

Anakin nodded. “I did. My– my master and I worked closely with him on a few campaigns early on in the war.” Exhaling slowly, he dropped his head into his hands, pressing the different weights of them against his face and into his hair.

Silence crept back into the room, slinking around the corners and settling into the shadows under the couch and behind the cabinets. His fingers tightened, pulling his hair into messy clumps until the pain of it forced him to release with a long, shuddering breath.

“You said the Jedi are gone. You said– What happened to them?”

“That’s the part we know less about,” Luke replied. “We think that Palpatine managed to maneuver public opinion against the Jedi Order until just about everyone wanted to hunt them down. After that it was easy to get rid of them. Fulcrum would know more.”

Anakin raised his head. “Fulcrum?”

“One of the leaders of the Rebellion. They’re the one who sent us to find your pod,” Leia responded.

“We know things are... difficult... right now,” Luke said. “But we hoped you would come with us, at least until we can find a place for you to go that’s safe from the Empire.”

Anakin dropped his hands to his lap, staring at his synth-leather covered prosthetic and feeling the aching weight of every scar he’d ever received. Luke and Leia had fallen silent while Han and his Wookie co-pilot were quietly trying to busy themselves at the tech station in the corner, while trying to look like they weren’t listening.

“There was a senator,” he began, fighting against the tightness in his throat, “Senator Padmé Amidala. What happened to her?”

Luke and Leia glanced at each other again, that unnameable something passing between them in the Force.

“...I’m sorry,” Luke said finally, and Anakin’s heart stopped in his chest, “but Padmé Amidala died just after the Republic fell.”

The ship shuddered as Anakin exhaled sharply, his prosthetic hand clenching in his lap until the durasteel joints creaked in protest. Grief howled inside his head, thrashing back and forth until it was all he could do to keep it from leaking too deeply into the Force.

_I’m so sorry Padmé, I’m so sorry._

After a long moment, he took his anguish and forcibly shoved it away, storing it in the place where he kept all his other sorrows, where it rested right next to a night of blood-soaked Tatooine sands and the griefs of a child. He relaxed his hands and straightened his spine and ignored how his breath came sharp and cold in his chest.

“Alright, take me to see Fulcrum.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> Title credit goes to [this poem by tumblr user: notbecauseofvictories.](http://notbecauseofvictories.tumblr.com/post/60424664963/for-liy-on-or-a-little-after-her-birthday-by) Thank you for letting me borrow from it.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com/).


	2. Betwixt and Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SAFE! After narrowly avoiding General Grievous and his clone army on Florrum, Padawan Ahsoka Tano and her youngling charges arrive back at the Jedi Temple, none the worse for their ordeal.  
> However, little does she know that her Master, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, has gone missing somewhere on the Outer Rim…

_Coruscant, Core Worlds; 2 years after the Battle of Geonosis_

The thud of the LAAT/i gunship settling down on the landing area just outside the Jedi Temple was barely noticeable over the animated chatter of the gunship’s occupants. Still, Ahsoka found herself letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The dangers that she and this latest batch of younglings had faced while attending the Gathering were over once they’d landed on Master Kenobi’s star destroyer, but Ahsoka was still glad to reach the Jedi Temple without anything _else_ happening. Fighting off pirates _and_ Grievous was bad enough.

She ushered the younglings, still chatting excitedly, off the gunship and pointed them in the direction of the Temple before turning back to Master Kenobi. He was smiling faintly at the younglings’ antics, though Ahsoka doubted anyone who didn’t know him would have noticed the crinkles around his eyes, but when she stepped towards him, his smile widened and he waved her away.

“Go on, Ahsoka,” he said, motioning to the Temple. “I imagine you’re tired, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you favoring your side. Go get some rest, and I’ll relay your report to the Council.”

“Thank you, Master,” she said, bowing. 

Kenobi nodded and turned back to face a clone who had just run up carrying a pile of data-pads.

Thus relieved, Ahsoka found herself trailing the younglings, smiling at their energetic retellings of the pirate attack, though Petro still seemed inclined towards over-exaggeration. Still, it was nice to see that they hadn’t taken any harm from their ordeal.

She followed them down to the crèche, intending to leave them at the door before seeking her own rooms. (Though, perhaps the Halls of Healing first, since Master Kenobi wasn’t wrong about her favoring her side after that fight with Grievous.) She’d even taken two steps away from the door to that effect before she realized that the rapid talking behind her had stopped and six pairs of eyes were now staring at her beseechingly.

“Couldn’t you stay, Padawan Tano?” Ganodi asked, her star-studded eyes flicking down in momentary embarrassment. “We haven’t heard your side of the story yet.”

Byph trilled in agreement.

“Yeah, what happened when you were with those pirates?” asked Katooni, her face alight with excitement.

“I want to practice that spin move you used on General Grievous!” Petro shouted, drawing his saber and gesticulating wildly in a move that might have been meant to mirror Ahsoka’s, if she was feeling generous, or blind.

Ahsoka stared at the younglings’ upturned faces and internally sighed, promising herself a late start tomorrow morning in place of the nap she definitely wasn’t going to get today. That decided, she raised a brow-marking at Petro’s antics.

“Don’t worry,” she said, grinning. “I’ll tell you my part of the story, and show _all_ of you the move I used, but only if you promise not to go out and try it on Grievous. I don’t think he could handle all six of you.”

The younglings cheered, and amidst a renewed cloud of chattering laughter, Ahsoka let herself be led into the crèche.

The inside of the crèche was chaos, in the way that only the very young could achieve when they know they can get away with it. A few steps in and Ahsoka caught the gaze of the old Togrutan crèche-Master, who smiled and flicked the tips of his lekku at Ahsoka in a fond and familiar greeting. She flushed, and flicked her lekku back in a returned greeting before being dragged by the group of young Jedi deeper into the crèche.

The next few hours were filled with storytelling, both from Ahsoka and from the younglings that’d been in her care. Often, one child would begin their story and then another – typically Petro – would interrupt and begin to tell theirs. Still, Ahsoka had a rapt audience when she began to tell her side of the pirate attack and the fight with General Grievous and she was quickly prevailed upon to show some of the moves she’d used in the various fights.

The rest of her time in the crèche passed in a blur of practice sabers and adjusting stances until the crèche-Master tapped on her shoulder and nodded meaningfully at the time displayed on the wall. Ahsoka grinned at him, her lekku shifting ruefully, and extricated herself from the focused crowd of younglings.

The crèche-Master met her at the door, holding her comlink and gauntlets, which she had abandoned before showing off her lightsaber moves, and offered them to her with a nod.

“You’re always welcome back here, Padawan Tano,” he said. “Though don’t think I won’t tell these younglings the tale of _your_ Gathering if you take so long before visiting again.”

Ahsoka grinned. “Sorry Master, I’ve been pretty busy with Master Skywalker and the war and all.”

The crèche-Master chuckled. “I understand. Fare well, Ahsoka, and be mindful of the Force.”

“And to you, Master,” she said, and slipped out of the friendly chaos of the crèche and back into the watchful stillness of the rest of the Temple.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rex was sitting outside her door.

Before she became Anakin’s padawan, Ahsoka could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen a clone waiting for her (and none of them had ever been good). After she became a padawan, however, seeing clones became much more commonplace. She found herself spending time with the men from the 501st in the barracks after each campaign, swapping training stories, showing off Force tricks, and – on one memorable occasion – learning to fire a LJ-50 “Conc” Rifle. So seeing Rex waiting outside her door wasn’t all that unusual, since Anakin had a tendency to send Rex to collect Ahsoka whenever they were assigned to another campaign.

But Ahsoka could count on one hand the number of times she’d seen Rex actually _sitting_ anywhere but the mess or the barracks, and even in those few instances she’d never seen him looking quite so…

Ahsoka’s foot scuffed the floor and Rex’s head snapped up from where he’d been hunched over, staring at his battered helmet as it rested on the floor between his knees. The look on his face slammed into her like a punch to the gut and Ahsoka shivered with the wrongness of it, foreboding slinking down her spine.

“Commander Tano,” he began, rising from the floor and tucking his helmet under his arm with exaggerated care.

Anakin never sent Rex to get Ahsoka when he’d finished a campaign without her.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Rex continued, “but General Skywalker–”

She’d always find him fixing his starfighter or in the sparring room or–

“We lost contact with him and his squad midway through his scouting mission–”

Sometimes he’d burst into her room and proclaim she couldn’t beat his new high score on the flight simulators–

“–scoured the planet but we couldn’t find any trace of him or his–”

“Rex,” Ahsoka croaked, the Force shivering around her. “What are you saying?”

Rex met her gaze squarely, but she could see the exhaustion and despair that long hours of fruitless searching could bring hovering behind his eyes and her next breath lodged in her throat.

“General Skywalker went missing at 1700 five standard days ago, Commander,” he said. “I deployed the 501st in both standard and irregular search patterns for four standard days after we lost contact until I was ordered by Republic High Command to terminate the search and return to headquarters on Coruscant.”

“He’s not gone,” Ahsoka said, her voice trembling. “He can’t be. It’s not– He isn’t– _He’s not gone._ ”

“He wasn’t attacked,” Rex said, almost reluctantly. “There wasn’t anything on the comms, and none of our instruments registered any Separatists jumping into the system. He just… _vanished._ ”

Ahsoka looked at Rex, fighting past her own horror and rising grief to notice the slump of his shoulders, the haphazard way his helmet was tucked under his left arm, the rumpled look of his kama, and the faint dusty sheen on his armor, all evidence of more time spent in the field than in the barracks with an armor cleaning kit.

“...When did you last eat, Rex?” she asked, her mind numb.

Rex shook his head stiffly. “No time, sir. Besides, you needed to know before…”

 _Before the news spreads through the Temple grapevine,_ Ahsoka thought, before carefully shoving her grief into as small of a space as she could manage in the back of her mind (with a promise to meditate on it later). That done, she took a fortifying breath and smiled tightly at Rex.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, her voice bright and brittle, “but you really ought to eat.”

Rex frowned, “Kid–”

“Padawan Tano?”

Ahsoka jumped, grateful for Rex’s solid presence at her back as she spun to face two Temple guards, who were waiting at the end of the corridor.

“Yes?” she asked.

The shorter of the two guards stepped forward. “Master Yoda requests your presence in the Council chambers. If you will please follow me?”

Ahsoka nodded and centered herself before following the guards. She was almost halfway down the corridor before she realized that Rex had fallen in on her left flank, just like he would have for Anaki–

 _Stop it_ , she remonstrated with herself, feeling the grief trying to shove its way free again. _There’s no time for this_.

Neither of the guards looked backwards or even seemed to notice her lapse in control, though Ahsoka knew it had flooded the Force around her like a flash-bang; nor did they seem to have an issue with Captain Rex following Ahsoka like he was on parade: shoulders back, helmet on, and an attitude that nearly screamed that it didn’t matter if they were in the heart of the Jedi Temple, he wasn’t leaving. 

Tears prickled at Ahsoka’s eyes in somewhat anguished gratitude, and she hastily blinked them away, bundling that emotion in with the rest of the grief over her master’s disappearance and focused on schooling herself into serenity until they reached the doors of the Council chamber.

“Your captain will need to remain here,” one of the guards said once they’d stopped. 

At Ahsoka’s nod, Rex moved to stand at attention against one of the walls, though Ahsoka noticed that his position allowed him a vantage point of both the doors to the Council chambers and the doors leading into the rest of the Temple proper. Still, the Temple Guards didn’t seem to have an issue, and the taller of the two motioned her to step forward into the Council chambers before closing the door behind her. 

As far as physical presence was concerned, only Master Yoda, Master Windu, Master Plo, and a few other Masters whose names she didn’t know were occupying their council seats in person. The rest, save for Master Kenobi’s chair, were occupied by holograms of the absent masters in various states of flickering.

Reaching the center of the room, Ahsoka bowed to the Council, and then to Master Yoda, schooling her face to stillness. 

“Padawan Tano,” Master Windu said, his voice grave. “We have called you here to inform you of Master Anakin Skywalker’s disappearance on the field as of 1700 five standard days ago.”

Ahsoka bowed. “Thank you, Masters.”

“Know this already, did you?” Master Yoda asked. “Informed, you have been?”

“Yes, Masters,” Ahsoka said. “Captain Rex informed me before I was called before the Council.”

Master Windu sighed. “I suppose that is to be expected. We had hoped to spare you the details, Padawan Tano, but we can see that this is not the case.”

“What is–” Ahsoka swallowed. “With respect, Masters, what is being done to find Master Skywalker?”

“Master Kenobi has been sent, along with his clone battalion and three star destroyers, to find Master Skywalker and return him home,” Master Plo said.

Ahsoka bowed again. “Thank you, Masters.”

“Understand, do you, that find nothing, Master Kenobi might?” asked Master Yoda.

“I understand, Masters,” Ahsoka said, even as her stomach clenched. 

“Afraid, are you?”

“I–” Ahsoka began to deny, before relenting. “Yes. I’m afraid. But I know Master Skywalker would wish for me to focus on my studies. So that is what I will do.”

There were murmurs from several of the other masters in the room, but Ahsoka kept her eyes trained on Master Yoda, who was nodding in approval at Ahsoka’s words. 

Master Windu spoke. “Your dedication to your master does you credit, young one, but are you prepared to face the possibility that Master Skywalker may not come back?”

Ahsoka swallowed, her heart in her throat, “I– I am, Master, though I hope I won’t have to.”

“Little hope, there is,” said Master Yoda,” in these troubled times.”

“I suppose not, Master,” Ahsoka replied and tried to quell the sinking of her stomach.

“Has Master Skywalker spoken with you of the Trials?” Master Windu asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Ahsoka tried not to frown. “I suppose?” She cleared her throat. “We have discussed what the Trials entail, and what I need to do before I take them, but he…” She faltered.

“Go on, Ahsoka,” said Master Plo.

The words fell out of her in a rush. “Master Skywalker said I had a few more years to go.” 

“A month ago, agree with this sentiment, we would have,” said Master Yoda.

“You are young, and as headstrong as your master,” Master Mundi added, though his voice was slightly garbled through the hologram.

“And you have trouble with control of your emotions,” added another Master that Ahsoka didn’t recognize.

“However, your Master has trained you well,” interjected Master Allie.

“And you are well versed in command,” Master Fisto agreed, nodding encouragingly at Ahsoka.

“After your latest altercation with General Grievous, it is clear that you have handled conflicts even an experienced Jedi Knight would otherwise have difficulties with.” Master Billaba stated, smiling at Ahsoka.

“The fact of the matter is, you are needed at the front, Padawan Tano,” Master Windu said, gravely. “If this were a few years ago, we would have taken the time to find you another Master to continue your training until you reached the point where you would take the Trials or until Master Skywalker was found. Unfortunately, this cannot be the case.”

“Allowed, you will be, to take the Trials,” Master Yoda said, folding his hands over his gimer stick. “If succeed you do, then a command, under supervision, you will be given.”

Ahsoka’s head was spinning, but she carefully centered herself the way she’d been taught, and bowed solemnly to the Council. “I thank you for your consideration, Masters. I will do my best.”

“You will be given two weeks to prepare for the Trials,” said Master Plo. “Master Billaba and I will assist you with the vigil beforehand.”

Master Windu spoke, “Even if Master Skywalker is found, the Council’s decision shall stand. You will be a Jedi Knight.”

Ahsoka nodded, and breathed to still her fluttering heart. “Then with your permission, my Masters, I must prepare.”

Master Yoda nodded his approval. “May the Force be with you.”

Bowing, Ahsoka somehow managed to exit the Council chambers without tripping over herself and she made it almost halfway back to her quarters before Rex’s hand on her elbow managed to bring her back to herself. 

“What Rex? Sorry I…” Ahsoka shook her head, her lekku twitching agitatedly. “I was distracted.”

“I guessed,” Rex said, though his smile was a pale imitation of what it normally was. “I was asking if you were okay.”

“Yes. No. I’m fine. I just…” she stopped, frowning.

Rex shifted uneasily. “What did the Council say about General Skywalker?”

“They’ve sent Master Kenobi to find him,” Ahsoka replied, unable to hide her relief at that news. “If anyone can find Skyguy, it’s him.”

Rex nodded. “That is good news. Cody going with him?”

“Yes, and they’ll have three star destroyers.”

Rex grinned, and this time it was closer to normal. “That’s good then. What else did the Council say?”

Here Ahsoka hesitated, still unable to wrap her mind around the whirl of conversation that had occurred. “They… they want me to take the Trials. So even if Master Kenobi finds Anakin, then I’ll still be a knight.”

“Is that good news?” Rex asked.

“Yes?” she sighed. “And no. I think I’m ready, but I was really hoping that it would be Master Skywalker telling me I could take the Trials. I never expected it like… this.”

Rex rested his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll find him, Commander. Count on it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The news of Anakin’s disappearance rippled through the Temple like the rising waters of a flood, slow and indomitable. Within a few days of her meeting with the Council, it seemed almost as if Ahsoka had received condolences and advice from nearly every Master in the Temple, all telling her to set aside her attachments and embrace the will of the Force.

 _Master Kenobi would be proud of me,_ she thought as she smiled graciously at another Jedi Master that she’d never spoken to before in her life. (The Master had magnanimously congratulated her on her poise and adherence to the Jedi Code, while his young Padawan had stared at Ahsoka in unabashed fascination.) _I haven’t snapped at anyone even once._

The stares were worse, sliding from the corners of everyone’s eyes and slinking around to press against Ahsoka’s back and shoulders like a tangible weight as she passed through the corridors of the Temple from meditation to sparring practice to her quarters and back.

Of course, since Rex had stationed two clones with her at all times since the Council’s announcement of Anakin’s disappearance, it was possible that the curious stares weren’t _entirely_ for her. Still, as the date of her Trials loomed closer, Ahsoka found herself spending most of her time in the créche, much to the younglings’ – and sometimes even the clones’ – enjoyment.

She chatted and played with the children, showing off her lightsaber technique and her strength in the Force, in addition to telling stories about the places she’d visited as Padawan, all carefully edited to keep the War away from the Younglings as much as possible.

It helped, mostly. The Younglings were obligingly curious enough to press Ahsoka for more and more details, and most of them hardly mentioned Anakin at all. But even with her distractions and her intent meditations during her usual sleeping hours, she still felt shaky, as though she were missing some indefinable part of herself.

The rumors that Master Kenobi had also disappeared were just beginning to circulate around the Temple when Master Plo and Master Billaba arrived at the door to her quarters to guide her to the Vigil Room.

The Vigil Room, and the Chamber of Trials that lay just beyond, had been a fixture of the Jedi Temple for time beyond remembering. Even before the Sacking of Coruscant, the Vigil Room and the Chamber had been at the heart of the Temple, imbued with the Force, and the focal point of both great triumph and great sorrow. Save for the Trials, which occurred officially twice a year, the two rooms were sequestered away from the Temple proper, though the High Council had been known to use the Vigil Room during times of great need when the Force was clouded. 

So for Ahsoka to be escorted to the Trials by herself, instead of within a procession of Padawans and their Masters, it was an occurrence nigh unheard of, and it brought both Padawans and fully fledged Knights to the corridors in droves.

Emotions buffeted Ahsoka in the Force as she followed the path to the Chamber, sandwiched between Master Plo and Master Billaba; curiosity being the foremost, though there were hints of jealousy and disdain that lurked like sour notes in a pitcher of water. Still, she walked with her head level and her gaze focused straight ahead until the heavy doors of the Vigil Room closed behind her with a soft, weighted thud.

“You did well to ignore them, little ‘Soka,” Master Plo said, his hand pressing comfortingly into her shoulder. “Your Master would be proud. As I am.”

Her voice silenced by both tradition and emotion, Ahsoka merely bowed deeply in reply, knowing that Master Plo could feel her gratitude resonating in the Force.

He nodded solemnly and his hand lifted to direct her towards a circle of raised stone in the center of the Vigil Room. 

Gray as a storm and cold as a winter’s night, the Stone of Waiting was said to have been carved from the top of the mountain that the Temple rested on. It was unadorned, though the sides and top were worn from countless millennia of Jedi-Knights-to-be settling themselves onto it. Indeed, Ahsoka could feel her own knees slipping into barely perceptible hollows in the top of the stone as she knelt and sank into the deep meditation required for entering the Chamber of the Trials.

Tradition dictated that a candidate for the Trials meditated for one day and one night in order to open themselves to the Force and gather their strength for the coming Trials. The candidate was supposed to ponder their place in the Order and how they could best follow the Jedi Code, but as Ahsoka descended into the Force around her, she couldn’t help the sting of grief and anger that clutched at her, following her down.

Above her in the Force the Temple unfolded itself, every being within its walls shining like stars against the firmament. But… no matter how hard she looked, the twin suns that had guided her life for the past two years had gone dark, and the rest of the stars paled in comparison.

 _What will I do,_ she wondered, _if Anakin is really gone? I’m just…_ me. 

_I’m not my master, and I’m certainly not Master Kenobi, and I just… I don’t know what to do._

The Force gave her no answer.

After a time immeasurable – and after no time at all – Ahsoka could feel Master Plo’s hand on her shoulder, guiding her back to her conscious mind. The faint light of dawn was coloring the room, somehow passing through narrow vents that led all the way to the exterior of the temple, letting in a pale, rose morning.

“Padawan Tano,” Master Plo said, once she’d blinked the bleariness out of her eyes and focused on him. “You come now to present yourself to the Chamber of the Trials. From this point on, you may not turn back. Your path now is as the Force wills it, for good or for ill. Do you understand this?”

Ahsoka’s mouth opened and she spoke the only words allowed to her at that moment.

“I do,” she said, her voice scratchy and unused.

“Then go now and step into the Chamber of the Trials,” Master Plo told her as he and Master Billaba stepped back from the Vigil Stone.

“May the Force be with you.”

Ahsoka rose on stiff but painless knees and stepped down off of the Vigil Stone. The doors to the Chamber – made of an unknown, colorless wood – stood open, leading into a featureless room less than half the size of the smallest training salles. Straightening her spine, she walked forward into the Chamber and the doors sealed themselves behind her, leaving her in darkness.

No Knight ever spoke of their Trials. Tradition as well as the Force itself demanded it. But in the Jedi Archives, if a Padawan had clearance from their master – or if they’d managed to trick the system – there were datacubes that spoke of how the Chamber of the Trials pulled from the fears and failings of Padawans to manifest in the Force and thus test any Jedi Initiate with the greatest challenges they could ever face.

All Ahsoka could see was unending dark.

”Ahsoka…”

She whirled around, montrals straining, and her hands reaching for lightsabers that weren’t resting at their usual places on her hips. But nothing came out of the dark.

“Ahsoka…” Anakin’s voice whispered.

 _Anakin?_ Ahsoka thought, carefully pressing her tongue to her teeth to avoid making a sound.

Light bloomed behind her, and Ahsoka turned, her eyes catching on a strange stasis pod, black and bulky, with a domed cover that lay dark under dim sunlight.

She stepped towards it, but the pod faded from view.

“Koh-tu-yah, little one,” came the voice of Master Plo as the darkness bled into the pastel buildings and reddish sky of a Togrutan colony world. Master Plo was kneeling in front of someone – a child, Ahsoka decided – while a crowd of Togrutas clustered around him, muttering disapprovingly.

No matter how much she walked, Ahsoka couldn’t get any closer to the group of Togrutas, but after some trial and error, she found she _could_ circle them. So she did, pacing around the outside of the group until a gap between two Togruta women revealed Master Plo kneeling in front of a small child, no older than three, with blue eyes and blue and white montrals…

The child – herself, Ahsoka realized – took Master Plo’s hand and the scene dissolved, pastels bleeding into murky grays and muddy shadows…

With a jolt, Ahsoka found herself in her cell on Mortis, the creepy rat-thing padding towards her on dirty feet…

“Couldn’t stay away could you?” it crooned, beady black eyes focused unerringly on her heart. “I _told_ you the chains were the easy part…” 

It leapt for her, yellowed fangs and claws outstretched and Ahsoka rolled out of the way, expecting to feel the tearing of her flesh at any moment… But when she finally came to a stop and looked around, she was alone.

Almost.

“Captain, you need to rest,” Kix said, rounding the corner of a corridor of the officer’s quarters in the _Resolute_. He was trailing Rex, who looked…

Ahsoka’s eyes widened. Rex looked _horrible_ , his eyes bloodshot and his hair longer than she’d ever seen it. His armor was covered in patches of soot and dirt and the long streaks of narrowly dodged blaster fire.

“I’ll sleep when it’s done,” Rex replied.

Kix scowled. “You won’t find General Skywalker if you get yourself killed, you–” He fell silent as Fives came around the corner, his armor nearly as tattered as Rex’s.

“Fives? What are you doing back?” Rex asked, his shoulders stiffening.

Fives shook his head. “We were getting overrun, Rex. I called them back. Three more Separatist battle-groups just showed up in orbit. We couldn’t hold them, I’m sorry.”

“You mean to tell me that you just _left_ General Skywalker out there, with no backup?!”

Ahsoka shivered at the tone in Rex’s voice, and even harder at the anger in his eyes.

But Fives was unphased. “I don’t like it either, but General Skywalker is _gone_ , Rex. Even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t order us to die for shoddy intel.”

Rex snarled and lashed out. But his fist didn’t land on Fives, like Ahsoka half expected, instead it impacted the wall, leaving behind a dent in the durasteel.

A horrible silence fell in the corridor, stifling even the distant echoes of alarms and the rumbles of the _Resolute_ ’s guns.

“ _Rex_ ,” Kix breathed.

Rex’s shoulders shook. “Tell… Tell Admiral Yularen to withdraw the fleet. We’re done here.”

“Sir.” Fives saluted and spun on his heel, racing towards the bridge.

“...Commander Tano will understand,” Kix said to Rex’s bowed head.

“Will she?” Rex asked, his face inscrutable. “Will she really?”

The corridor dissolved into a hail of blaster-fire, clones falling left and right as Jedi stood among them like bulwarks, the only solidity against the chaos of battle. Starfighters screamed by overhead, scattering into shrieking chunks of pinwheeling metal as their engines caught and burned. 

Voices echoed in Ahsoka’s montrals. All clones, all dying, until she wanted to clutch her hands over her head and scream just loud enough to make the noises stop. She closed her eyes and _inhaled_ … and the voices stopped. The sounds of battle faded to a mere whisper, leaving behind only the faint hum of a lightsaber blade.

But it wasn’t the soothing green or blue of a Jedi lightsaber that greeted her eyes. Rather a sickly red glow bounced off of the gleaming marble floor and shining columns of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, refracting with every water droplet that flew through the air.

Behind her the lightsaber scraped across the floor, cracking the stone and sending a shrieking whine echoing through her head. 

Her heart in her throat, Ahsoka turned around.

 _She_ stared back, a grown Togruta woman with elegant blue and white lekku and montrals grown to almost dangerous points. But the eyes that rested under the familiar-but-different markings weren’t the blue Ahsoka was used to seeing in the mirror. They were a blood-shot gold, gleaming with insanity and hatred, echoing the crimson glow of the two sabers she clutched in each fist.

Ahsoka reached for her sabers, though a distant part of her knew that she hadn’t brought them with her. But when her hands brushed her hips, she found sabers there, though they weren’t a design she was familiar with. The hilts were longer than her original lightsabers, and they looked as though they’d been made from scraps of any metal available rather than the carefully curated selection of lightsaber hilts from the Temple’s coffers.

The instant Ahsoka’s hands touched the sabers at her hips, the other Togruta – the _Sith_ – attacked, her teeth bared in a snarl as a feral scream tore itself from her throat. Their lightsabers met in a blaze of red and gree– no… _white_. Ahsoka’s sabers were white, blinding and absolute; and they shone like stars against the gruesome red glow of the Sith’s lightsabers.

They fought up and down the rows of fountains, until with each step they took, Ahsoka could feel the Temple tremble around them, and it seemed as though it would shake itself apart. But neither gained an advantage over the other, no matter how hard they tried.

The Togruta Sith vanished between one saber-strike and the next, taking the destroyed Temple and the clinging red light of her sabers with her. Ahsoka’s white lightsabers disappeared with the Sith, leaving her hands clutching at nothing in the dark.

Except it wasn’t entirely dark.

There were a few lights in the distance. Tiny, blinking lights like the indication lights of a LAAT/i gunship. And as her eyes grew accustomed to their dim luminescence, Ahsoka began to make out the shadowy edges of gunships and Jedi Aethersprites and a single hooded figure crouched at by one of the gunships, fiddling with something…

The Chamber whirled her away, though not before a searing blast of light and heat left spots dancing across her vision and tender heat across her cheeks.

“It’s a plot! A plot to kill the Jedi!”

 _Fives_? Ahsoka wondered, peering through the gloom of the warehouse, but all she could see were rows and rows of crates.

“General, you have to believe me!”

 _I do believe you_ , she thought, even as Rex drew his pistols and she ignited her lightsaber. _Whatever this is, Fives, of course I believe you._

But Fives didn’t answer.

A Temple arched above her, its gleaming red roof coming to a shuddering point around a beam of red lightning. The Force swirled around it – and her – cold and inexorable, sweeping down until it stirred the cloak of an enormous armored figure that stood by the gleaming central spire of the Temple.

The figure’s armor was also a life-support unit, going by the blinking lights on its chest and the wheezing breaths that Ahsoka could hear from where she stood.

There was something...odd in those breaths, a pained gasp that grated against her montrals and rattled in her own chest, almost against her will.

“Ahsoka…” the figure gasped.

 _No_ , she thought, her mouth shaping the word, though no sound passed through her lips. _No you_ can’t _._

“Why did you leave, Ahsoka?” the figure... _Anakin_ , wheezed.

_I didn’t._

“Don’t you see…”

 _You left. You left_ me.

“...what I’ve become?”

A cry pressed against her teeth, her throat, as she sprung forward, though even she wasn’t sure whether it was to attack or to flee. But instead of her hands meeting plastoid armor, they slapped into the doors of the Chamber, and she stumbled into a golden morning, falling to the floor in front of the assorted members of the High Council, even as Anakin’s distorted voice echoed hauntingly inside her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was setting in the windows of the High Council’s antechamber, gilding every surface with a sleepy gold tint as Ahsoka sat stiffly in a chair just beside the doors. The Council had been in session ever since she’d emerged from the Chamber of the Trials so… precipitously, and she idly wondered if they’d even end up Knighting her after all, given the length of time they’d spent deliberating.

She didn’t look at the Temple Guards watching the door – nor they at her – instead pondering just what it was exactly that she’d seen in her Trials. The past, certainly, but the future?

One of the Guards straightened. “Padawan Tano? The Council will see you now.”

Stiff and still somewhat shaky, Ahsoka rose from her chair and padded on still-bare feet into the High Council chamber, bowing low towards Master Yoda and the other assorted Masters present.

“Completed your Trials, you have,” Master Yoda said. “Unusual, they were.”

Ahsoka wondered what kind of answer he expected to get from that, but she said nothing.

Master Windu and Master Yoda glanced at each other, the Force fluttering between them.

“It has been determined that any difficulties you experienced within your Trials was in part due to your age,” Master Windu told her. “Which, given that your Trials were approved by this Council, we are prepared to overlook them.”

Ahsoka stirred. “Master?”

Master Windu smiled. “Congratulations, Knight Tano,” he said as Master Plo stepped up behind her and neatly sliced off her silka beads. “You are now a Knight of the Jedi Order.”

Emotions too numerous to name pressed against her teeth, demanding attention, but she swallowed them down and bowed deeply. “Thank you, my Masters.”

“With regret, I must call forth the matter of your command,” Master Mundi said in his whisper-soft voice. 

“Place her in command of the 501st Legion,” Master Plo said as he returned to his seat. “The troopers there are familiar with Knight Tano’s leadership style.”

“Arise, problems might,” Master Yoda interjected. “If an untrained Knight, given too much pressure is.”

Master Billaba straightened, her dark eyes settling on Ahsoka kindly. “Perhaps if the 501st is given a new command structure along with a new General?

“Unless I’m mistaken,” she said to Ahsoka, “but Captain Rex is your second in command, is that correct?”

Ahsoka nodded.

“Then perhaps a promotion is in order for the Captain.” Master Billaba continued. “His promotion would give him more operational authority. Hopefully this would prevent any problems Knight Tano might experience.”

A silent conversation flickered around the room, bouncing from Master to Master in the Force. Finally, Master Yoda cleared his throat and rapped his gimer stick upon the floor.

“Promoted this Captain will be, and assigned you are, Knight Tano, to the 501st Legion.” His greenish-amber eyes were almost sad. “May the Force be with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [ starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com/)


	3. Speak Painful Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being released from stasis, Anakin Skywalker is rescued by a group of fighters affiliated with something called the REBELLION.
> 
> Successfully evading Imperial forces, Anakin makes the decision to meet with Rebellion leaders to find out more about this strange new galaxy he finds himself in.
> 
> As he heads towards the Rebel Fleet in the MILLENNIUM FALCON, Anakin may find himself farther away from home than ever before...

_Millennium Falcon, hyperspace; 3 years after the Battle of Yavin_

For as long as Anakin could remember, whenever things became...too much, when the looming weight of the universe threatened to crash over his head like a tidal wave, he would take himself aside and handle only the things that made absolute sense.

Ironically, it was easier when he was younger, before he joined the Order. Watto would tell him to go out into the junkyard and to fix what was broken, and he _would_ fix it. With every piece or part he fixed, something inside always seemed to _click_ into place and the world would get just a little bit easier.

In the Order it was harder. There were specific ways to think and to wonder and to _breathe_ and trying to make things work his own way wasn’t always appreciated. The créche-masters had often thrown up their hands when he vanished under their noses. So they sent Obi-wan after him, and he’d scold and he’d remonstrate and he’d warn, but Anakin could almost always see the faint smile being hidden by a growing beard and the slow but steady humor that was gradually surfacing from underneath the overwhelming grief. So Anakin kept doing what he needed in order to keep things quieter and eventually it turned from a need to a hobby and then back to a need again.

He’d never wondered _why_ he was so drawn to making broken things work again, but it figured that it was a family trait. So it wasn’t surprising when Leia found him, several hours after they’d jumped to hyperspace, buried elbow-deep in the charred guts of the portside deflector shield generator. She didn’t talk at first, just handed him tools before he needed them, and Anakin found himself slowly relaxing as he settled into a comfortable, and soothing, rhythm of fixing the only things he could.

“I know what it’s like,” she said eventually, and Anakin nearly dropped the tool she’d handed him in surprise.

“I know what it’s like,” she said again, when Anakin didn’t respond, “to lose your whole world. It’s not something I’d wish on anyone.”

Anakin’s hands tightened on the tool, his grief roaring in the back of his mind, but he shoved it down again. “My master always said that politicians were corrupt, I guess I should have listened.”

“The Emperor is very good at making himself be believed. For a long time, the destruction of Alderaan was blamed on the Rebel Alliance. We’ve managed to spread the real story to some extent, but Imperial propaganda makes it difficult.”

“I imagine,” Anakin said dryly, turning back to the shield generator. For a while, they worked in comfortable silence, handing tools and parts back and forth until the generator no longer looked like a mangled mess, just a complicated one. It wasn’t until the ship’s engines switched from hyperspace to sub-light that she spoke again.

“For what it’s worth,” Leia said, “I know none of this is what you’re used to, but I’m glad you’ve decided to meet with the Rebellion.” She handed him a replacement power converter, and left without waiting for his reply.

Luke found him a few minutes later. “We’re docking with the fleet in a few minutes. Fulcrum should be there to meet us.”

Anakin nodded and closed up the now-repaired shield generator, setting the tools back in their places with a slight pang of regret. He followed Luke to the docking tube, absently stretching out his mind to see what awaited him in the Force, only to brush against something... strange. 

Whoever it was, they were Force sensitive for certain, he decided, though the signature didn’t feel like any Jedi he knew. It was familiar though, but no matter how much he wracked his memory, no one’s face came to mind.

Then he stepped out of the airlock and froze at the tableau before him.

A Togruta stood there, two lightsabers strapped to her hips, which were clad in an armor pattern that Anakin hadn’t seen before. Her chest was similarly covered, the oval chestplate lacking any distinguishing markings or colors. Her blue and white striped lekku reached mid-back, while her montrals came to elegantly arching points. She was speaking to two older humans, but at Luke’s shout she turned, and Anakin suddenly found himself breathless.

He knew those eyes.

“ _Ahsoka?”_ He gaped, shock washing through him. 

Ahsoka stared back at him in astonishment, the tips of her lekku twitching rapidly with the force of her emotions. Her facial markings had shifted with age, though Anakin could still see the echoes of what she’d looked like as a padawan. An angry scar traced its way across the front of her left montral, the lowest edge disappearing beneath her headdress. As he stared, Ahsoka moved towards him, her steps almost faltering until she stood right in front of him. 

_She’s...so much_ older _,_ he thought, his gaze tracing the scars across her face and the way she walked and just how much _taller_ she was. If it wasn’t for her coloration...he might not have recognized her. 

Then his arms were full of grinning Togruta and he was too busy ignoring the tears – hers and his – that leaked out to land on his shoulder and chest to think much of anything.

“I’ve missed you too, Skyguy,” Ahsoka said into his shoulder, her grip spasming tight before she abruptly let go and pushed back. “Where did you _go_ , Master? We looked for you, Rex and I, we looked everywhere for you but you just _vanished_. Where did you go?” 

Anakin shook his head. “A stasis pod of some kind. Last thing I remember is leaving for my mission in the Outer Rim and then… nothing. I woke up in the pod minutes before they came to get me out.” He motioned towards the crew of the _Falcon_ , not noticing the odd looks he was getting from Luke and Leia. “They brought me here so I could meet Fulcrum, whoever that is, and hopefully get some answers to this mess.” He paused at the mischievous glint to Ahsoka’s eyes. “You’re Fulcrum?”

She grinned at him. “Fighting the Empire seemed the easiest thing to after… well, after,” she said, her face falling into more somber lines.

Anakin found himself hunching his shoulders without thinking about it, tensing as if to ward off a blow. “I know about Padmé, Ahsoka. Luke and Leia told me.”

When she didn’t answer, he looked back up at her. She was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face, but when he met her gaze it was compassion he saw, instead of pity.

He didn’t think he could have withstood pity.

Ahsoka put a hand to his shoulder. “Come on, Skyguy, there’s someone you should meet.” 

“Ahsoka.” Leia stepped forward, her dark eyes sweeping over Anakin and leaving him feeling oddly exposed. “You know the policy. You _wrote_ it.” She winced apologetically at Anakin. “No offense, Master Jedi, but the Rebellion has not stayed active and safe this long by being careless.”

Anakin opened his mouth to respond, but Ahsoka beat him to it.

“I can vouch for him,” she told Leia. “I knew him from the Clone Wars.” Her mouth twisted. “Though I thought he was dead.”

Anakin winced. “Sorry about that.”

Ahsoka smiled, and it lifted almost a decade from her face. “Don’t worry about it, Skyguy. Come on, you’re _really_ going to want to meet this person.”

Leia still looked dubious, but she and Luke followed in Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s wake without further comment as Ahsoka led them deeper into the Rebel ship.

The ship was an Alderaanian cruiser, one of the CR90 Corvette class ships that had been so popular as blockade runners and diplomatic vessels during the war. It didn’t have the usual Alderaanian decor that he was used to however, Anakin noticed. Instead its interior lines reminded him of the Nubian cruisers Padmé favored when she-

Anakin broke himself away from that train of thought before it could do more than attempt to rekindle the flames of grief in his chest. _Now isn’t the time,_ he reminded himself. _Later. I’ll have time to mourn Padmé later._

As Ahsoka led him onwards, Anakin found himself critiquing what he’d seen of the Rebellion thus far, just like he might have critiqued a deployment in the Clone Wars. He didn’t catch the ship’s name, but the crew was a mixed bunch, most them being humans or near humans, though Anakin did see a few Twi-leks and even a Nautolan moving along the adjacent passageways as he walked deeper into the ship.

Whispers began to spring to life, rippling outwards from his and Ahsoka’s wake until the two of them moved within a bubble of startled silence, pierced only by the echoes coming from behind them. 

They reached the bridge and the bubble broke, sending a wash of silence over the room that pulled everyone’s gazes towards Anakin and Ahsoka, save for a handful of people bent over the holographic projection table in the center of the room.

Anakin felt his gut begin a slow churn as he took two hesitant steps towards the table. The group was made up of mostly humans, though there was a green-skinned Twi’lek in pilot’s leathers, a Mon Calamari he belatedly recognized as Captain Ackbar (an Admiral now, judging by the bars on his coat), a group of older-looking men all in heavily scratched white armor – _clones?_ – and…

He locked his knees so they wouldn’t buckle, wishing for the first time that he had prosthetic legs instead of a hand. Maybe they wouldn’t shake so much. 

Through the roaring in his ears he vaguely heard Ahsoka ordering everyone out of the room (and didn’t notice at all the glances exchanged between Ahsoka and one of the armor-wearing group: an older man with a white beard and moustache). He only had eyes for the woman who stood behind the table, the blue light of the hologram reflecting off the silver threads in her dark hair.

Padmé raised her gaze to meet his and Anakin _moved_. A few long strides brought him to the edge of the table and it was barely the work of a few more to circumnavigate the edge until he was a step away from Padmé–

And the years he’d been trapped in that pod suddenly fell between them in a barrier as thin and as impenetrable as a ray shield.

Frozen, he stared at his wife and as she stared back, all he could see was the woman he left behind in a Coruscant apartment before he left on yet another deployment for the Clone Wars. The rest of the details trickled through slowly. 

Silver strands streaked through her hair, though the majority of it was still as dark as he remembered. The six-stranded braid she kept it in still showed off her delicate features and the stubborn set to her chin, but the wrinkles that had been threatening during the clone wars had finally settled into place at the corners of her eyes and the downturn of her mouth.

_I don’t care_ , he thought fiercely. This was still _Padmé_ , still the woman he’d fallen in love thirteen - no, _thirty-six_ \- years ago on Tatooine. Twenty-three years in a stasis pod would never change that, not ever.

_But_ she _might care,_ he reminded himself. And even though something howled in the deepest parts of himself at the thought, he knew he would walk away if she told him to. He would, he would, _he would._

A slim hand slipped into his and Anakin looked down into Padmé’s smile. Now he could see the same tears at the corners of her eyes that were beginning to gather in his, and he could feel the well of his resolve begin to crack.

“Hello, Ani.”

With her words, the barrier of the years between them shattered and Anakin pulled his wife to his chest, holding her tightly until the strength of his grip registered in his mind and he released her with a curse.

She laughed, and something in him settled at the sound.

“I’m no more breakable now than I was before, Ani, I promise,” she said, and pulled him with surprising strength into her own embrace.

“I missed you so much,” he muttered into her hair. “When Luke and Leia said you’d _died_ …”

She exhaled on a laugh. “I missed you too, Anakin. And I’m –” her grip tightened “– _so_ glad you’re alright.”

Anakin pulled back to look her in the eyes. “I’d never leave you, Padmé. Not willingly. Not unless you told me to go.”

A slight shiver ran through her small frame. “Anakin, I know things are different now-”

“I know,” he said. “I heard about the Republic, Padmé. I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, smiling ruefully. “It’s not that. Well… it’s not just that.” She pursed her mouth as if fighting not to spit out something unpleasant. “I was referring to something a little more… selfish.”

He tilted his head at her in question.

“I’m _old,_ Ani,” she said finally. “I’m not the same woman you knew.”

With the utmost care, he took her face in his hands, durasteel and flesh, and pressed his forehead against hers.

“You’re you,” he said. “The rest will work itself out.”

He heard Padmé’s breath catch on a sob and then her lips were on his. They broke from this kiss when they ran out of air (though neither had much to begin with) and Anakin finally felt himself relax.

“Of course you’d start a rebellion,” he said, once he’d looked around. “With Ahsoka as the military leader?”

Padmé raised an eyebrow and asked, with amusement lurking in her tone, “I take it you have a different suggestion?”

He shook his head, grinning, “No, no. It looks like Snips doing a great job. She has to be if she earned that fancy codename.”

She smiled at him, then sobered. “Anakin, there’s something else I need to tell you, something important.”

“I’ll take that as my cue to come back in,” Ahsoka said from the door.

Padmé jumped while Anakin had his ‘saber drawn and his body imposed between his wife and the door before he’d even realized his lightsaber had left his belt.

“Ahsoka…” he growled.

She grinned at him. “Wow, Master, you must be rusty if _I_ could sneak up on you like that.” He scowled at her and she laughed. “Relax, Skyguy. Besides, there’s other people here who want to see you,” she said, smirking at the flush rising on Anakin’s (and even Padmé’s) cheeks.

From behind Ahsoka stepped the three armored men that Anakin had noticed earlier. Though on closer inspection he noticed certain similarities to…

“Rex?” Anakin blurted out. “Jesse? Kix?” 

Rex smiled at him, echoed by the other two clones. “It’s good to see you again, General,” Rex said.

Anakin strode forward and clapped a hand to Rex’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you too, Captain, Jesse, Kix.”

“Commander, sir,” Rex corrected with a nod. “General Tano insisted.”

“General?” Anakin glanced at Ahsoka with a raised eyebrow, ignoring the roiling anger at just how much he’d missed. “Moving up in the world, huh, Snips?”

Ahsoka grinned. “Someone had to. When you didn’t…” Her grin faltered. “When you didn’t come back, the Council gave me command over the 501st.”

“Smart move,” Anakin agreed, though his durasteel hand creaked under the pressure as his fist clenched. When the metal protested, silence fell over the conversation, broken only by the awkward shuffling of feet.

“Ahsoka,” Anakin asked after a long moment, a cold pit opening in his stomach. “Where’s Obi-wan?”

Ahsoka’s face fell, grief overcoming it for a single moment before she regained control and smoothed her features into a Jedi’s customary serenity.

“We don’t know.” She sighed. “We thought that the pod you were in actually held him, but with you here… We don’t know.”

“I don’t understand,” Anakin said.

“It’s… it’s a long story. And I ought to start from the beginning. Do you remember, Master,” she said, “the trip I took with the younglings to Illum?”

He nodded. “The Gathering, I remember.”

“Well, there were some complications that ended up stretching out the trip longer than expected. By the time we returned to the Temple...” she paused, the tips of her lekku twitching with anxiety, “Rex and the 501st had been ordered away from the search. The Council told me you were missing and that Master Obi-wan had been sent to find you. Except… he didn’t.”

“General Kenobi went to your last reported location, sir,” Rex said, taking over from Ahsoka, “ but approximately three standard days later, HQ lost contact with the General and his escort. They investigated further, but no survivors were found.”

“No survivors?” Anakin asked. “How?”

Rex shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. Several squads sent to investigate only found wreckage of the gunships they used to get to the surface, but no bodies or armor tags.”

Anakin had to swallow noisily before he could talk. “But if Obi-wan wasn’t there, and I wasn’t there, then…”

“We started losing,” Ahsoka cut in. “With you and Master Kenobi gone, I don’t know, but it was… it was like that’s all that the Separatists were waiting for. They started winning. Smaller conflicts at first, then whole systems. Jedi started vanishing left and right, either dead or just _gone_. And then Barriss…” Here Ahsoka had to stop, her breath coming harsh and loud in the mostly empty room. “Barriss bombed the Temple.”

Anakin recoiled. “Barriss what? Why would she-”

“She wanted to convince the Council to leave the war, but they way she did it… So many people died.”

“The Chancellor was able to use the public opinion generated by the bombing to impose new legislation on the Jedi order,” Padme cut in. “He prevented them from getting the supplies and reinforcements they needed.”

“But that would-” Anakin started.

“Make things worse,” Padme agreed. “People started blaming the Jedi for losing the war. Eventually enough of the Republic turned against the Jedi that if his ‘stormtroopers’ hadn’t been ordered to march on the Temple, Coruscant would have. So he sent his troops to attack the ‘Temple of Traitors’ and the Republic just blithely stood by and watched.”

“Traitors?” Anakin stared at Padme, shocked.

Ahsoka smiled bitterly. “You have to understand, Master, Palpatine was counting even dead Jedi as deserters, and when the Council finally went to talk to him about it, he claimed they tried to assassinate him and ordered all ‘traitors to the Republic’ killed.”

He shook his head, his face slack in utter disbelief. “How did you survive?”

Something undefinable flashed across Ahsoka’s face, there and gone before he could read what it was. “I wasn’t at the Temple,” she said, gesturing to Padme. “I was with Padme on Naboo.”

Anakin turned to his wife. “You weren’t at the Senate? Not that I’m not glad you’re safe,” he added hurriedly, “but why were you on Naboo?”

Padme sighed. “That’s what I wanted to tell you, Ani. Shortly after you disappeared…” she wrung her hands once. “I was pregnant, Anakin,” she blurted out. “They were twins. Boy and a girl. I was on Naboo to raise them.”

_The floor really ought to stop moving_ , Anakin thought to himself. “You were…” he began as his throat squeezed shut. “They didn’t… make it?” He asked, fear sliding like pitch along his nerves at the thought. 

But Padme smiled. “They survived, Ani. They grew up.”

“Actually, Skyguy, you’ve already met them,” Ahsoka grinned at him.

Anakin frowned, trying to place who could have been…

_A flash of blue. “Commander Skywalker.” A young woman’s serious face popping over the edge of the console…_

“Leia,” Anakin said, with sudden realization, “and Luke. They’re…” he glanced at Padme, “Mine? Ours?”

She nodded.

Anakin staggered, barely noticing the hands at his elbows as Jesse and Kix tried to prevent his introduction to the oddly mobile floor. The room spun, looping in slow circles as Anakin’s universe turned itself upside-down, sideways, and just a little bit cross-eyed. He fought to regain his breathing as the world rattled around him and as sirens blared and screens flashed. 

Then the door snapped open, and Anakin realized the cacophony wasn’t just in his head.

They had just ran out of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com/)


	4. Sorrow's Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> INVASION! With the planet of Cato Neimoidia under Separatist attack, Ahsoka Tano leads the 501st on a rescue mission to the planet.
> 
> Back on Coruscant, tensions rise as protesters gather in front of the Jedi Temple to call an end to the Order’s involvement in the war…

_Cato Neimoidia, Colonial Territories; 2 years after the Battle of Geonosis_

“Okay boys,” Ahsoka said as she lifted her Eta-2 _Actis_ -Class starfighter free of the _Resolute’s_ hangar, her fighter squadron falling in behind her. “Remember the plan. Broadside, Contrail, you’re with me. We’re going to punch a hole for the gunships to get through.”

“Understood, General,” came Broadside’s reply as he and Contrail fell in at her flanks.

“The rest of you cover the gunships,” Ahsoka ordered. “We need them on the ground in one piece if we’re going to send these tinnies back to the scrapyard.”

A chorus of replies sounded as the rest of the clone Headhunters fell into position, forming a bristling aerial perimeter around the less-agile gunships carrying the bulk of the 501st. Her orders given, Ahsoka pushed forward, followed closely by the rest of Shadow Squadron as they hurtled to the planet below.

The skies above Cato Neimoidia were riddled with flak as Separatist and Republic forces clashed against each other like territorial gundarks fighting over a scrap heap. As they hurtled down towards the planet’s surface, it didn’t take long for Shadow Squadron to reach the thick of the fighting. 

Ahsoka banked up, narrowly avoiding a collision with a droid tri-fighter, though her near brush sent the droid careening off course into a Separatist cruiser. As if sensing their compatriot’s demise, two squadrons of tri-fighters angled themselves towards Ahsoka’s squad. Their first volley barely pinged her fighter’s shields, but the next found its mark, raising beeping alarms all across her sensors. Ahsoka rolled her ship out of the way to avoid the incoming fire, and felt herself sink into the Force as she entered the fray.

_Anakin would have loved this_ , she mused as another tri-fighter exploded into shrapnel. _He always preferred flying to ground combat._ Grimacing, Ahsoka pushed the thought away even as she clipped a stabilizer on the tri-fighter she was following, sending it into a spin that ended as it spiraled into the path of another Separatist fighter. Both droids exploded, adding to the deadly rain that fell to the ground below.

Her Force-sense pushed at her and Ahsoka rolled her fighter again, the edge of her starboard wing flying just under an enemy missile as it sped past and splintered into dozens of spherical buzz droids. Before they could fall too far down, the droids opened their domed hulls and launched themselves at Ahsoka’s starfighter, forcing her to dip downwards to escape the swarm. 

The clones behind her weren’t so lucky. 

“Broadside? Contrail? Are you clear?” Ahsoka asked.

“All clear sir,” Contrail replied. “I wasn’t hit.”

“Broadside?” Ashoka repeated.

Over the comlink, Ahsoka heard Broadside spitting curses, his voice fading in and out as the buzz droids drilled their way into his fighter’s systems. 

“Contrail, take point,” Ahsoka said, angling her fighter until she began to fall behind Broadside. “I’m going to see what I can do to get some of those tinnies off him.”

“Understood General.”

Ahsoka slid in behind Broadside as Contrail pulled ahead, and lined up her fighter before she took the shot. 

She tried hailing him again. “Broadside?” But he didn’t answer.

“Okay, Artoo,” she said, “Let’s scorch them.”

The first few shots cleared off the buzz droids on the top part of the ship quite nicely, but the droids on the bottom part were harder to get to, especially once one sank its manipulators into the fighter’s engine and started ripping out wires. Now trailing smoke, Broadside’s fighter began to angle downwards, heading for a short cliff that jutted out of one of the massive stone spires that dotted the landscape. 

“Artoo, take over,” Ahsoka said, her hands moving to her safety restraints, “and see if you can get closer to that cliff.”

Artoo beeped at her.

“Yes I know the landing zone is too short. You’re not going to land on the cliff. I just need to you to get close enough for me to jump.”

Artoo chirped reproachfully, but tilted the ship towards the cliff as requested. Ahsoka popped the canopy and slipped onto the wing, keeping her balance low as the roaring winds threatened to snatch her away. Broadside’s fighter was definitely on fire now, but she thought she could see the curve of his white helmet beneath the smoke. So, taking a deep breath and getting a firm grip on her sabers, Ahsoka leapt towards the fighter just as it made contact with the cliff face.

For one gut-clenching moment, she felt her feet begin to slip from the shuddering metal, but she thrust out with the Force and her stance steadied. In her next breath, she lashed out with her sabers, severing the fighter’s cockpit locks and yanking the canopy open. With the cliff edge looming underneath them, Ahsoka grabbed Broadside under his arms and _jumped_ , her feet leaving the fighter just as it tumbled into oblivion. 

They hit the ground rolling, Ahsoka digging in her knees and elbows to bring them to a stop before they followed the fighter over the edge. As they finally slid to a stop, Ahsoka exhaled in relief before sneaking her fingers under Broadside’s neck guard to search for a pulse. It came readily, thrumming strong and steady against her fingertips. Relieved, she drew them back as Broadside began to stir.

Overhead, the welcome thrum of a LAAT/i gunship rattled closer and closer, swooping down until it landed just north of her position. The doors slid open and two medics were out and running before the ship even managed to touch the ground. They levered Broadside up and removed his helmet where, Ahsoka was pleased to see, he seemed reasonably unharmed despite the bloody nose and what was going to be a truly spectacular shiner.

Footsteps crunched behind her.

“Hello Rex,” Ahsoka said, turning around. “Thanks for the pick-up.”

Rex smiled. “Anytime General.”

“The gunships?”

“They made it through,” he confirmed. “Ground forces have engaged in sectors two through eight and fighter squadrons are providing air support.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Good. Any Separatist reinforcements?”

“Not according to Admiral Yularen. The blockade fleet has retreated to the upper atmosphere and our forces are gaining ground.”

“I’d better get out there then,” she said, pushing a button on her gauntlet. Behind her, Artoo settled her fighter next to the gunship and Ahsoka turned to go, with Rex following behind. About to leap back into the cockpit, she paused.

“Be careful, Rex.”

“You too, General. I’ll see you back on the _Resolute_.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The battle stretched past nightfall and well into the next morning. Ahsoka spent most of it weaving in between Separatist cruisers and sliding behind droid tri-fighters to fire a killing shot before the droids made another fireball out of a clone starfighter. It wasn’t until Artoo beeped at her, reminding her of the level of her fighter’s fuel gauge, that she realized just how long she’d been stuck in the cockpit. She’d just turned the nose of her fighter back towards the _Resolute_ when the “All Fighters Return Home” notice flashed on her sensor boards. 

“Guess it’s time to head back, hey Artooey?” she said, falling in line with a squad of clone trooper starfighters as they streamed back to the star destroyer.

Rex was waiting for her on the hangar deck when she landed, his helmet tucked under one arm and faint lines of stress showing in the creases of his eyes and mouth.

“Casualties?” She asked, once she’d extracted herself from her starfighter and walked up to him, guessing at the reason for his unhappiness.

“One third,” Rex responded, “Worse than I’d hoped, but better than expected. The air support was able to keep the bulk of the Separatist forces from overrunning us.”

Ahsoka pursed her lips, nodding thoughtfully. “Okay, see what we can do to keep the majority of our forces in the problem areas on the planet and I’ll try to get the Council to send us some reinforcements. If we want to hold Neimoidia then we’ll need them. Also– ” she noticed the look on his face. “What is it?”

“You have a call from the Council. Admiral Yularen couldn’t forward it to you during the battle.”

Ahsoka blinked at him, her breath caught in her throat. “Is it…?”

Rex shook his head. “They wouldn’t say. Just that it was urgent.”

“Well,” Ahsoka said, straightening her shoulders, “let’s go see what they want to talk about.”

Admiral Wulff Yularen was standing in front of the hologram projection table when she reached the bridge, his face unusually grave as he spoke to the flickering projections of Master Yoda and Master Windu.

“Apologies for my lateness, Masters,” she said once she’d stepped within pickup range, “I was out in the field and unaware of your transmission.”

“Grave tidings we have, Master Tano,” Yoda said, leaning heavily on his gimer stick and looking older than Ahsoka had ever seen him. He waved his hand and the hologram shifted into an image that made her blood turn to ice.

“Bombed the Jedi Temple, someone has,” Yoda continued, as the horrific image continued to rotate in miniature just above the table.

“But who could successfully bomb the Temple?” Ahsoka asked, surprised at how even her voice sounded. “Did the Separatists do this?”

Master Windu frowned. “I’m afraid we must take all possibilities into account. The culprit could have been anyone in the Temple.”

_Even a Jedi._

The unsaid words echoed around the _Resolute’s_ crowded bridge, even with the noise of the crew resounding off the walls as they shouted orders and information back and forth. Behind her, Ahsoka could feel Rex’s mounting alarm in the Force and somehow found herself comforted. At least she wasn’t the only one horrified.

“What we need,” Windu continued, “is for you to come and lead the investigation.”

“Me?” Ahsoka asked, alarmed. “I’m a Knight barely three months out from my Trials. I can’t lead an investigation of something like this.”

“Here you were not,” Yoda said. “Unbiased your opinion will be.”

“The fact of the matter is,” Windu said, looking vaguely uncomfortable, “we don’t have enough Jedi out in the field that we can bring in someone more experienced, and most of the Jedi who would normally investigate this are already in the Temple.”

Slowly, Ahsoka nodded, though trepidation churned her stomach.

“Master Unduli will arrive soon with the 41st to provide reinforcements and assume command,” said Master Windu. “Analyst droids have already begun going over the blast site, but we need you on Coruscant as soon as possible.”

She bowed. “I‘m on my way, Masters.”

“May the Force be with you.”

Ahsoka stood staring at the hologram table long after it had gone dark, her stomach churning and the very tips of her lekku twitching in her distress, despite the control she had over them most of the time. When Rex spoke up behind her, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

“I’ll pull in some clones to go back with you, at least until General Unduli can get here,” he said.

She almost snapped at him that she didn’t need an escort, but one look at Rex’s face stifled the words in her throat.

“You can’t think that whoever did this would try and attack me, do you?”

Rex shook his head. “I don’t know. Attacking the Temple… it’s obvious that this bomber has no love for the Jedi. If you get too close, then they might become bold enough to strike directly. If General Skywalker were here…” he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

_It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?_ Ahsoka mused. Even though Anakin hadn’t been with the 501st when he’d vanished, Rex had still taken it as a personal insult that his General couldn’t be found.

In fact, when she thought about it, aside from the battle earlier today, there were always at least one or two clones from the 501st nearby whenever she went anywhere that wasn’t the _Resolute_ or her quarters at the Jedi Temple.

Noticing that Rex was still watching for her reaction, she forced a smile and nodded her acceptance. He gave a brisk nod back and turned to begin quietly talking into his comlink as they began the long walk from the bridge to the Eta-class shuttle in the hangar that would take her back to Coruscant

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the shuttle angled towards the Jedi Temple, Ahsoka found herself shuddering at the sight of smoke in the Coruscanti skyline. An ugly stew of fear, anger, and grief was welling up from the city below, staining the Force with a greasy film that sent shivers up her spine.

Of course Coruscant was no stranger to smoky skies. In fact, clear skies (even in the upper levels) were more the exception than the rule. But at the Temple… a place that hadn’t been attacked in living memory… 

There shouldn’t have been smoke there.

As the shuttle flew closer, the tension in the Force thickened until Ahsoka found herself breathing shallowly through her mouth as her heart raced and her stomach burned. They glided over a group of protesters clustered at the public entrance to the Temple and the discord in the Force was so strong that she actually swayed. She might have fallen over if not for Fives’ hand at her elbow and the steadying presences of the three men behind her.

Master Plo was waiting for them at the door to the hangar bay. 

“Koh-tu-yah, Ahsoka,” he said, inclining his head as Ahsoka and the four 501st troopers approached.

“Koh-tu-yah, Master Plo,” she replied, feeling her Force sense begin to settle as they walked into the familiar halls of the Temple proper. “Is everything alright? How is the investigation going?”

“The investigation is going about as well as can be expected,” Master Plo said, his face falling into grim lines. “I believe there is already a suspect in custody.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Only if the suspect was the only individual involved. But that is not what I’ve come to speak about.”

Ahsoka snuck a glance at the Kel-Dor master. “It’s not?”

He sighed. “The Council has decided to remove Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker’s names from the ‘Missing in Action’ lists.”

Ahsoka’s blood went cold. “Then… they found them…?”

Plo shook his head. “Their whereabouts are still unknown. However the GAR and the Jedi Order do not have the resources during this war to search for Masters Kenobi and Skywalker.”

She stared at him aghast. “We can’t just give up on them! Master Plo–”

“Peace, Ahsoka,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “The Order may no longer be able to search for Anakin and Obi-wan in an official capacity, but that does not mean we are not looking at all.”

Ahsoka glanced away, staring at the golden light that filtered through the numerous windows that dotted the corridor.

“I just don’t want to give up on them,” she said quietly.

Plo nodded. “Nor should you if your feelings tell you they are still alive.”

“I don’t…” she sighed. “I don’t know. I think so.”

“Then you _will_ see them again, little ‘Soka.”

They fell silent as they reached the main floors of the Temple, the clones behind Ahsoka gathering more than their fair share of curious looks. While clones weren’t banned from the Temple like the general public (save for a few researchers or those with jobs in the Temple complex), it was rare to see them outside the levels dedicated to Jedi Command and rarer still to see clones in full armor. Thankfully Master Plo seemed unbothered by her escort, which kept the mutterings around them to a dull murmur. In fact, unless she missed her guess, for an instant she had even caught the barest hint of approval before it was smothered under a Jedi Master’s customary calm.

As they neared the bombed-out hangar, Ahsoka found herself grateful for that calm, and for the steady focus of the clones behind her, as the barest edges of psychic distress began to bleed into the Force around them. 

Plo paused by the sealed hangar doors. “Good luck, Master Tano,” he said, turning to input the code that would allow her into the crime scene. “May the Force be with you”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

If the smoke rising from the side of the Temple was a bad dream, then the still smouldering wreckage inside the hangar was a nightmare. Pieces of gunships and Jedi fighters were strewn everywhere, blackened and twisted like some sort of macabre graveyard. Interspersed with the metal were the bodies (or the parts of bodies) of the people who’d been killed in the blast. Most of the deceased were covered by makeshift tarps or body-bags. But…

She could still hear the screams.

Ahsoka forced herself to step further into the hangar, digging her fingernails into her palms as the whirling vortex of fear and violent death worsened the closer she got to the epicenter of the blast.

Behind her the clones switched on their headlamps, the cold, white beams barely able to compete with the overwhelming press of the smoke and despair still lingering in the air.

_Who could have done this?_ she wondered, staring around at so much senseless death as her gorge rose in a way she hadn’t felt since after the time she nearly lost her whole fighter squadron in a string of bad decisions. She thought she knew war, but this?

“I can’t believe a Jedi could have done this.”

The words came from behind her, and Ahsoka, still fighting her reaction to the slaughter around her, twitched in surprise and turned to face the speaker.

Tup, one of the newer clones to join the 501st in the latest round of transfers brought in to fill out the battalion, looked surprised to be the sudden focus of his three brothers and his general. To his credit, however, he didn’t flinch, just straightened his shoulders and pursued his question.

“I mean,” he said, “Jedi can’t turn traitor, can they?”

Fives laughed, a short, bitter sound. “Oh the Jedi can have traitors.” He shrugged apologetically at Ahsoka. “Not you of course, General, but I remember General Krell on Umbara. He was a real piece of work.”

Ahsoka’s mouth twitched in an aborted attempt at a smile. “Don’t forget Dooku,” she reminded him. “He’s probably the biggest traitor the Order could have right now.”

“Except for whoever did this,” Jesse said, anger in the stiff lines of his shoulders. “They killed brothers _and_ Jedi. If it was a traitor–”

“We don’t know who it was,” interjected Kix. “It could have been anyone. We need to do more investigation and determine–”

“Perhaps you ought to leave the investigation to the professionals.”

Startled, the clones spun to face the speaker, weapons out and pointed at a diminutive blue droid with the Jedi symbol painted in gold on its chest and a visor flipped up and away from its eyes.

The droid eyed the clones’ violent reaction to his presence, but instead of commenting, he turned to Ahsoka.

“General Tano, I am Russo-ISC, crime scene analyzer for the Jedi. I will be working with you and your…” he looked the clones up and down,”...men on this case. I was assigned by Master Windu.”

“Okay, Russo,” Ahsoka said, once it was clear that Fives and the others were waiting for her acknowledgement of the analyst droid. “I take it you’ve already interviewed the witnesses?”

“I have,” Russo said as the clones slowly relaxed. “My interviews have let me to a suspect, one Letta Turmond. Her husband was the bomb.”

“Don’t you mean the bomber?” Jesse asked.

“No, I meant the bomb,” Russo said curtly. “It is believed that Letta forced her husband to ingest particularly volatile nano-droids, causing him to explode.”

“So…” Tup shifted awkwardly, “It wasn’t a Jedi?”

_If a droid could look disapproving,_ Ahsoka thought. _Russo could._

“Ms. Turmond is refusing to cooperate with the authorities,” Russo said. “She has stated that she will only speak to the Jedi investigating this case.”

“Me?” Ahsoka asked, startled.

Fives cut in. “Why does she want to see General Tano?”

“Ms. Turmond has not explained her reasonings to me,” Russo replied primly. “All she will say is that she will only speak to the Jedi leading the investigation.”

“Thank you,” Ahsoka said while Fives, Jesse, Kix, and Tup all glared at Russo with varying degrees of unhappiness. “Will you please forward me your investigation files?”

“It will be done presently,” Russo acknowledged, before turning and heading towards the open door. Three meters from the doorway, he turned back to face Ahsoka. “I believe Ms. Turmond is being held at the Grand Army of the Republic Headquarters, under custody of Admiral Tarkin,” he said, and left.

“Well,” said Tup, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. “At least it wasn’t a Jedi.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The headquarters for the Grand Army of the Republic were situated in a large, forbidding, durasteel-gray building situated at the edge of the Jedi cruiser staging areas. Purpose-built shortly after the war started, it was the epitome of the Republic’s relatively new militaristic might: bristling with gun embankments and surrounded on all sides by LAAT/i gunships, Y-wing bombers, and clone barracks. 

Ahsoka–who was still more used to the serene lines of the Temple, even after having served in the war for years–shivered at the sight of it.

They were met at the end of the shuttle’s loading ramp by a clone orderly, who led Ahsoka, Fives, Jesse, Kix, and Tup past the alternating patrols that marched hourly around the complex and into High Command proper, heading for the Republic Military prison located in the basement of the complex.

Normally Ahsoka always felt calmer around clones, buoyed by their ceaseless focus and their sense of camaraderie in the Force. Compared to the chaotic mass of civilians on the rest of... well, anywhere really… clones were almost a relief to be around. But today…

Unease tickled the back of her neck as they descended deeper into the complex. It was obvious that news had spread about the bombing as anger began to swirl around them the closer they got to Letta Turmond. Ahsoka shifted, rolling her shoulders back in a minute circle as the orderly led them to a checkpoint situated in front of no less than five ray shields.

“Commander Fox?” Ahsoka asked, stepping up to the window in the side of the booth. “I’m Ahsoka Tano. I was told that the prisoner Letta Turmond was expecting me?”

A clone stepped up to the window, clad in armor that was painted with the dark red of the Coruscant guard and with the Galactic Senate emblem on his chest.

“General Tano,” Fox said, glancing at the four clones following Ahsoka before turning his gaze back to her. “Ms. Turmond is under custody of Admiral Tarkin. All visitors are restricted.”

Ahsoka’s mouth tightened. “Unless you have orders to the contrary, Commander, this investigation is a Jedi matter, and I, as the Jedi in charge of the investigation, have access to any and all suspects connected to said investigation.” Her expression dared him to disagree. “I am here to see Letta Turmond.”

“Admiral Tarkin will need to be notified.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Of course.”

Fox eyed her deceptively calm stance and the vaguely belligerent lift of her chin for several long minutes before turning to one of the clones manning the checkpoint booth.

“Alright,” he said. “Scan them.”

Ahsoka and the clones stood quietly, waiting for the multitude of beeps that signified the end of the scan. Before long Fox was turning back to them.

“I’m afraid we need your weapons and your comlink, General, and your men will need to wait here.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka said, reaching for her sabers and the comlink strapped to her vambrace. “Fives, if you’ll–”

“Jesse, Kix, and Tup will stay here,” Fives interjected, stepping forward until he loomed just behind her shoulder. “But I stay with the General.”

Tension coiled between the two men as they stared each other down. For a moment, Ahsoka wondered if they would come to blows – or even how she would handle it if they did – but then the tension eased, instead of snapping, and Fox took a step back and jerked his head at two other clones until they followed him out of the booth with their DC-15A rifles.

“Follow me, General,” he said and led them past the multitude of ray shields.

It took them a while to get where they’re going, even with Fox and his escorts leading them at a reasonably brisk pace. The prison was built like a warren, twisted and confusing with its rigidly hexagonal walls. It was always easier to keep prisoners trapped if they couldn’t even escape their cell block.

Eventually, though, Fox stopped in front of a cell identical to all the others around it, and swiped his access card before standing back.

“Ms. Turmond?” Ahsoka asked as she and Fives descended into the cell, Fox shutting the door behind them. “My name is Ahsoka Tano. You asked to see me? I’m the Jedi investigating the bombing.”

Letta was curled up in the corner of the cell, a dark-haired human woman with tattoos on her face and arms and dressed in a thin pink shirt and gray pants. At Ahsoka’s arrival, she stared suspiciously out from under the pink hat pulled down low over her eyebrows, her gaze lingering on Fives as he took up a position to Ahsoka’s left.

“Ms. Turmond?” Ahsoka prompted.

“I’m not talking with one of _them_ here,” Letta snapped.

Fives was too good of a soldier, too good of an ARC trooper, to show any kind of reaction to a statement like that, in or out of armor. But Ahsoka could feel the slow pulse of his anger in the Force. Just one pulse, then he settled back into the usual impartial stillness he had when dealing with civilians.

“I trust Fives with my life,” Ahsoka said, stressing his name just a little. “So whatever you have to say to me, Letta, he can hear too.”

The snap in her voice pulled Letta away from her sullen perusal of the fabric of her pants and brought her focus back to Ahsoka, who stared at Letta with rapidly mounting impatience.

Letta flushed under the scrutiny and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I was told if I ever needed help that you were the Jedi to contact.”

Ahsoka frowned and barely kept her gaze on Letta as Fives’ impartiality in the Force sharpened to wariness. “Who told you this?”

“I can’t…” Letta shook her head, hunching into herself. “I can’t say. All I know is that my life is in danger. But you need to know the truth.”

Ahsoka didn’t look at Fives, though she could feel his alertness. “The truth?” she asked. “What’s the truth?”

Letta shifted uneasily on the bench in the back of the cell. “It was a Jedi,” she said. “A Jedi showed me how to make the bomb and where to put the nano-droids.”

The Force was whirling around them – or maybe that was just the room – and Ahsoka shoved aside the fear and horror tickling her spine just long enough to ask, “Why would a Jedi do this?”

“Because there are some citizens of the Republic, like myself, who believe that the Jedi Order isn’t what it used to be!” Letta snapped, springing up from her crouch and pacing in the limited space left for her. “The Jedi have become warmongers.” She whirled on Ahsoka, not seeing or not caring that Fives’ hands had dropped to his blasters at her sudden movement. “You’ve become military weapons, and you’re killing when you should be keeping the peace!”

“There was a Jedi who agreed with us,” she said, exhaustion leaching in to replace her fanatic fervor. “One of you wanted to make a statement, and they were willing to attack the Order to do it.”

“...Who?” Ahsoka asked.

Letta sighed. “If you protect me then I’ll tell you, but you need to do it now.”

Ahsoka spared a quick glance at Fives before pushing forward. “Letta, I can’t help you until you tell me who is behind this.”

The Force was shivering, waiting in breathless anticipation for Letta’s next words and tying Ahsoka’s stomach into knots. Force, what if it was someone she _knew?_ What if it was someone she’d worked with, someone she’d trusted?

Letta was twitching restlessly now, unable to sit still with all the tension in the room. Finally she looked up at Ahsoka. “I–it’s…”

Her eyes bulged, and at first Ahsoka just thought that it was fear that had stopped Letta from stammering out an answer. But then the Force thickened and chilled around them, sliding like greasy ice into Ahsoka’s veins and she knew that something much worse was happening.

“Letta!” Ahsoka cried, as Letta rose kicking and thrashing into the air. “Letta!”

She reached out with the Force, trying to find some way to break the hold of whomever was killing Letta. But with no line of sight on the murderer, even Yoda would have been hard pressed to save Letta’s life, much less a green Knight still fresh from her Trials.

Letta gave one last final gurgle and her body dropped to the floor. Armed with a faint, desperate hope, Ahsoka followed, probing with the Force and her fingertips for even a remote sign of life. She may not have been trained as a healer, but she might be able to hold on long enough to get Letta to the Halls…

Fives was shaking her shoulder, his voice raised with a desperate entreaty that Ahsoka could hardly hear over the roaring in her head. Distantly she felt his hand on her shoulder, keeping him between her and the door. Running bootsteps echoed down the corridor, turning into shouts at the cell door slid open.

“Well General Tano,” Commander Fox said, looking between Letta and Ahsoka knelt on the ground, “can’t say I blame you, but all the same you’re under arrest.”

“Under what charge?” Fives snapped, hovering protectively in front of Ahsoka, his hands on his blasters.

Fox turned to stare at Fives, his helmet hiding the look on his face. “General Tano is under arrest for the murder of Letta Turmond,” he said, speaking as though Fives should have been the one to slap Ahsoka in cuffs. “So I suggest you stand down, Lieutenant.”

“No,” Ahsoka stammered, “no, I–I didn’t do this. I didn’t kill her.”

“I’m sorry General, but the cameras showed–”

Ahsoka shot to her feet. “I didn’t kill her!”

The clones in the hallway snapped their rifles up at Ahsoka’s sudden movement, angling their sights on her and Fives. She eyed the guns warily, her gut churning at the thought of the men she’d otherwise trust with her life being willing to kill her.

“–it again,” Fives was saying. “Check the recording again. General Tano didn’t do this.”

“And I suppose you, an ARC Trooper, is an expert on all things of the Force?” a cold, cultured voice said from the hallway, cutting through the rising tension in the room with a lightsaber’s precision.

Admiral Wilhuff Tarkin stepped down into the cell, staring down his long nose at the crumpled body of Letta and at Fives’ defensive stance and Ahsoka’s miserable confusion.

“I presume, General Tano, that you have some reason for this?”

Ahsoka gritted her teeth. “I didn’t kill Letta. I was trying to help her.”

Tarking raised an elegant eyebrow. “And I suppose Ms. Turmond here choked herself then?”

“Letta called me here to ask for my help,” Ahsoka said. “She was just about to tell me who was behind the bombing when someone reached through the Force and killed her.”

“And I suppose you’re saying that this ‘someone’ wasn’t you?”

“I. Didn’t. Kill. Letta.”

Tarkin gave a cursory glance around the cell, lingering on Fives’ belligerent stance next to Ahsoka and ending on Letta’s crumpled body. “I don’t think you need to tell me anymore, General. There are recorders in every cell. Curiously, it appears that the sound wasn’t working in this one.” He turned to look at Ahsoka, a faint smirk playing around his mouth, before motioning to Commander Fox. “Arrest her.”

Fives slid between Ahsoka and the rest of the clones, ignoring how many rifles were pointed at him. “Mine does,” he spat.

Tarkin sneered. “You have something to add, trooper?”

“Standard ARC Trooper kit,” Fives said, pulling out a holo-projector from the pouches on his belt. “I recorded General Tano’s entire conversation with the bomber. At no point did General Tano threaten Letta Turmond.”

“And I’m simply to assume that you are completely unbiased in this matter, ARC-5555?”

Fives’ hands spasmed once on the holo-projector. “General Tano is innocent, _sir_.”

Tarkin sniffed. “Play your footage then, trooper.”

Fives pushed a button on the projector and Ahsoka’s conversation with Letta played out in blue-tinged miniature, from her entrance to the cell to Letta’s struggles in mid-air.

“So you would have me believe, General Tano,” he said when the recording stopped. “That someone else attacked this woman, via the Force,” his lip curled, ”and that you were simply trying to save her?” 

Ahsoka lifted her chin. “Yes.”

He glanced down at Letta’s body again. “Commander,” he said. “Put this base on lockdown. I want detailed reports of anyone who’ve gone in or out of the base within the past three planetary rotations. Master Tano,” he turned his cold eyes on Ahsoka, “you are to return to the Jedi Temple and await further investigation. If it is found that you have had no dealings this bomber and her associates, then you will be free to return to active duty. Until then, consider yourself suspended. Commander Fox, escort Master Tano and her… associates… back to the Jedi Temple.”

“You can’t do that!” Ahsoka cried, her hands fighting to ball themselves into fists.

“Your other option is to remain in a cell, Master Tano, and ARC-5555 to be sent to the firing squad for gross insubordination towards a superior officer,” Tarkin said, his face implacable. “It doesn’t matter to me what you choose, but if you try to escape the planet or your Temple, then I shall have to assume that you and your men were complicit in the bombing of the Jedi Temple and in Letta Turmond’s death and I shall act accordingly.”

Ahsoka stared up at Tarkin, the tips of her lekku twitching madly. Tension curled in the silence between them, stretching and fluttering as it settled slowly into antagonistic glares. The moment stretched, and Tarkin raised an eyebrow, looking down his long nose at Ahsoka, almost daring her to retaliate against everything he’d thrown at her this evening.

Ahsoka jerked her head at Fives and stormed out of the cell, the clones in the corridor parting before her as she stalked back to the checkpoint, with Fives and four unknown clones following behind.

“We’re leaving,” she snapped once she’d reached the checkpoint, startling Jesse, Kix, and Tup to their feet as she passed. They caught up once she’d reached the elevator, filing in silently alongside Fives and the clones escorting them back to the surface. Fives must have filled them in over the helmet tightband, because a minute after they’d entered the elevator Ahsoka felt the sudden rush of her men’s anger in the Force. A cold silence followed the anger, drawing invisible lines between the clones from the 501st and the clones assigned to the Coruscant Guard. Ahsoka felt a twinge of remorse at that, remembering what Rex had told her once about the importance that clones placed on brotherly bonds, and oddly enough, that twinge was enough to clear her anger and leave her exhausted but clear-headed.

When they reached the courtyard leading into the base, Ahsoka stepped out with an inaudible sigh of relief. The Coruscanti night air smelled faintly of gun oil and liquid tibana – the fuel used for the gunships and fighters parked nearby – but she found herself inhaling deeply anyways, grateful for the openness of the courtyard after the chilled tensions in the elevator and hallways. 

Something still bothered her, though, even beyond Tarkin’s apparent willingness – and possibly even eagerness – to throw her in a cell. She was certain that the Force signature of the person who’d killed Letta was familiar to her somehow, twisted by the Dark Side and the hidden, secret joy of killing someone, but still familiar…

It was only when the Force tugged at her that Ahsoka noticed the stillness. The only sounds were the distant roar of the main city skylines, instead of the rise and fall of the nearby clone Headhunter and LAATi engines. Ahsoka paused, every instinct honed in her by the use of the Force and several years of war telling her that something was about to happen, something big. 

The Force tugged again, and Ahsoka flung open her mind, straining to sense whatever it was that was going to happen, only to reel backwards as the Force started humming, anxiety and a dark anticipation tangling together in a cloud over the base and sending a warning tingling down her spine. Behind her, Fives, Jesse, Kix, and Tup had picked up on her tension and were standing with their hands on their blasters, scanning the surrounding area while the clone trooper escorts were standing behind them awkwardly.

Exhaling to clear her mind, Ahsoka braced herself and tried again, opening her mind to the swirling vortex of emotion in the Force that seemed poised to fall down upon them like a hammer. At first she was nearly overwhelmed, and felt her body begin to sway before gloved hands clamped down like a vice at her elbows, keeping her upright. In her mind she could sense the glowing star of the Temple, shining like a beacon to every Jedi in the Republic, and she let herself take comfort in its solidity before throwing herself back to the vague pall of the Dark Side that was slowly creeping over the GAR headquarters.

She was certain now that whomever had killed Letta was still lingering, waiting for something to happen, and if she could just _find_ Letta’s killer then she’d be able to find answers to the Temple bombing…

The Force _pulled_ at her, and Ahsoka stumbled forward her eyes flying open to stare upon an empty courtyard. Except it wasn’t.

A patrol was marching towards them, twelve clone troopers marching in perfect formation, returning from a patrol of the base’s outer perimeter. The Force nudged again just as the patrol reached the far end of the Battle of Geonosis Memorial Wall and, without thinking, Ahsoka found herself running towards them, hands outstretched and fear beginning to churn her stomach. When she was halfway across the courtyard, she _shoved_ with the Force, her desperation sending the clones scattering like dry leaves as the Force howled and the world turned to fire.

The explosion threw her backwards, tumbling end over end until she skidded to a stop amidst falling chunks of Geonosian granite, blood pounding in her montrals. The world wavered around her, fading in and out as she fought to keep from sliding into unconsciousness. Groaning, she rolled herself onto her back, staring blearily up at a sky now filled with smoke and fire. The motion left her head spinning, the Force spiraling away from her grasping mind. Without it, the pain rolled over here in a wave, radiating out from her chest to every place she’d hit as she tumbled.

Desperation flung her mind open again, and she grasped wildly at the ragged threads of the Force, pulling them close and using them and adrenaline to push herself upright and survey the sight of the blast.

The sky was filled with smoke and flame, the courtyard littered with the twisted pieces of the Geonosian Memorial Wall and a few crumpled bodies clad in sooty plastoid armor. With horror rising in her throat, Ahsoka would have cursed if she’d had the breath, but instead she scrambled forward towards those still forms, her mind reaching out see how many of them were still alive.

Force, she hoped they were.

Distant shouts brushed past her as she reached the first body, her fingers searching for a pulse even as her other senses told her she wouldn’t find one. The shouts rose and fell, competing with the ringing in her head as she stumbled around looking for survivors. Dimly she felt others searching with her (or for her); clones who’d come running when the bomb went off. Hands reached for her when she tried to move a boulder, her head pounding with the effort, but she lurched away before they could grab hold, she needed to find survivors. She needed…

The cool touch of a mind she _knew_ brought her up short, her gaze narrowing on a figure wreathed in smoke standing by the barracks on the far side of the courtyard. She reached out again, a faint dread settling into her stomach, only to recoil at the writhing tangle of anger–fear–hate–sorrow that had subsumed a mind normally grounded in cool, serene logic.

“Oh no,” she whispered with a mouth as dry as Tatooine’s sands. “Barriss…”

The second explosion sent her flying.

Something tore when she hit the ground, white-hot pain shivering along the side of her face as the Force danced out of her reach again. This time she couldn’t fight the pull of blessed unconsciousness and her vision faded to the sight of white-armored clone troopers fading through the smoke like ghosts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

_She dreamed of dust._

_She dreamed of dust and of caves and of the stink of bugs that wouldn’t – couldn’t – come out of your robes, not after having a thousand tons of rock pressing down on them and you._

_She dreamed of cold and fear and of the hot sizzle of a lightsaber being pressed near her skin by her best friend that wasn’t anymore._

_She dreamed of smoke and ash and a thousand little things only she could handle anymore._

_She dreamed of running, of searching, of chasing someone who was always just around a corner and yet never within reach._

_She dreamed of fire that corrupted as it burned. Fire that burrowed into her bones and split her open. Fire that poured from her to consume everyone and everything she ever cared for until she alone stood choking in the smoke, ankle-deep in embers and ash._

_Fire burned in her chest, scorching a line on her face and montrals, sliding underneath her skin to pool in the hollows of her muscles. Waves of cool light rippled at her edges, fighting to make headway only to be scorched back and back and back._

_She tried to remember her training, remember what Anakin taught her about managing pain and emotion, but it all slipped through her fingers with each ebb and flow of that cool, distant light until there was nothing to focus on, nothing to hold onto, nothing…_

_There. A nudge. Not a Jedi, she knew how they felt in her head, but somehow still familiar… Whatever it was, it stood calm and fast, waiting for her to follow. With her last hope she seized on it, and followed it out of the flames._

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahsoka was pulled awake to the sound of murmuring conversations, armor plates creaking, and the harsh whispers of a muffled argument at the far end of the hall. By the echoes, she was in one of the intensive care and recovery rooms in the Halls of Healing. But instead of the usual soothing hum of Jedi healers talking to their patients and to each other, there was the deeper drone that she normally associated with the clone mess hall… 

“–can’t just park your men here. This is a place of healing and you are disturbing the other patients!”

“With all due respect, sir,” a blessedly familiar voice rumbled, “but you aren’t my general and without her authorization, my men and I are not going anywhere.”

“Correct,” Rex said – and what had happened to put _that_ tone in his voice? – ”Now if you'll excuse me, I need to supervise the duty rotation.”

The door closed on Chief Healer Che’s – so that’s who the other voice belonged to – protests, and Ahsoka heard the faint crackle-whine of a door lock being hacked. A breath of silent laughter escaped her at the sound. Trust Rex to shut the Chief Healer out of her own domain.

A shadow leaned over her, cutting out most of the light from the window as she felt the heat displacement from an ungloved hand pass over her cheek.

“Sir?” Kix said. “She’s awake.”

The light dimmed further – one of the other clones must have hit the control for the window shades – and Ahsoka forced her eyes open, wincing as the fuzziness in the rest of her body resolved itself into one large ache.

Rex pushed his way through the gaggle of clones clustered at the foot of her bed, a faint smile chasing away the grim lines that had taken up residence on his face while he was gone.

“You had us worried, sir,” he said. “Glad you pulled through.”

Ahsoka tried to smile, though it turned into a grimace when her parched throat pulled at her. One of the clones to her right – Two-fer, the pilot who’d flown her to Coruscant – presented her with a glass of water, while another raised the head of the bed just enough so she could gulp at the drink. Two-fer pulled the cup back at Kix’s warning – ”Only a little, she’s just out of bacta” – but by then all activity in the room had ceased and Ahsoka found herself staring back at a roomful of concerned clones all in 501st blue.

“When did you get back?” she croaked, glancing at Rex.

“Two days ago,” he replied, settling himself onto the stool beside her bed (which creaked under the weight of his armor). “About a week after the second bombing.”

She shot upright – or would have if Kix and Jesse hadn’t placed their hands at her shoulders to keep her in place. “A week?” she yelped. “I’ve been asleep for a week?”

“Little bit longer than that,” Fives said, stepping forward and ignoring the glare he was getting from Kix. He looked a bit worse for wear with scrapes along his face, the fading remnants of a black eye, and a burn on the side of his head. “They had you in bacta for a little over a week. Only took you out yesterday.”

“A week…” she sighed, sagging back into the mattress before a pinprick of memory made her stiffen again. “I know who was behind the bombings. It was…” her breath caught, ”it was Barriss Offee.”

The clones around her bed all glanced at each other.

“They arrested her about a day after the bombings and tried her in the military courts,” Fives said eventually. “She confessed and was found guilty the next day.”

Ahsoka slumped in the bed, blinking furiously to hold back the tears pushing at her lashes. “Wait,” she said, frowning. “The military courts? Not the Council?”

They all glanced at each other again, none of them quite willing to meet her eyes. It was Rex who answered.

“It was argued that since the second bombing was at HQ that this was a strictly military matter.” Rex scowled. “It was also argued that without another suspect in custody, that the courts would have no other choice but to assume that you were behind the bombings.”

A wave of angry mutterings rolled throughout the room at that remark, leaving Ahsoka gaping at Rex.

“They… they can't do that, can they?” she asked.

“Whether they can or not, they’re going to. Because the Chancellor has been hinting since Offee’s arrest that the Order is ‘compromised,’” Fives spat, looking grumpy. No… not grumpy. Murderous.

“But he can’t… He _can’t_ do this to the Order,” she said, her stomach twisting with unease.

“If he tries, we’ll stop him,” Fives growled, the room shivering with the echoing responses from the rest of the clones.

“Alright _vode_ , that’s enough,” Kix said, stepping in before the angry mutterings started to raise in volume. “The General needs sleep.”

There were a few gripes and groans – startling after the anger that had threatened to darken the room just minutes before – but most of the clones filed out quietly, each one passing a hand along the foot of Ahsoka’s bed as they moved to the door. Kix watched them all go with an amused but sharp eye before following the last one out, leaving just Rex sitting on the stool by her bed.

“You gave us quite a scare, kid,” he said eventually, the lines around his mouth and eyes deepening as he frowned. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.”

Ahsoka smiled ruefully. “I’ll try, Rex, but no promises.”

He chuckled. “No, I suppose not.”

“How many dead?” she asked him after a few moments, her smile fading.

“Almost two hundred,” Rex sighed. “The second blast caught the first wave of responders.” He glanced at her, his face somber. “Most didn’t have the Force on their side.”

Ahsoka flinched, unable to keep from curling into herself as the guilt roared up from the place she always kept it tamped down. She began stuttering an apology only to gape like a beached fish when Rex let a particularly vicious curse she’d never heard before and leaned forward to pull her gingerly into a hug.

“Not your fault, kid,” he said. “Fives told me what you tried to do, pushing that patrol away from the first bomb. Most of them are alive because of you.” 

Eventually she nodded, and he stood and went to the door, sliding his helmet back on.

“I’m keeping some men stationed outside, sir,” he said, all business again. “Get some rest.” 

Ahsoka nodded, and the door slid shut behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a few days later when Ahsoka slipped out a side window, limped her way to a speeder, and escaped the subdued atmosphere clinging to the Temple like a shroud to fly to the Senate Apartment Complex.

One of Padmé’s handmaidens met Ahsoka at the Veranda, taking in her bruised and bandaged appearance with the twitch of a delicately manicured eyebrow. But she escorted Ahsoka inside without a word, leading her to a small sitting room where Padmé was reclining on a couch, surrounded by senate documents, and listening to a Naboo music station in the background.

“Ahsoka?” Padmé asked, surprised, as the handmaiden vanished back into the hallway. “What are you doing here? You should be resting!”

Ahsoka shifted awkwardly. “I couldn’t…” she exhaled. “No one will tell me what happened with Bar– ... what happened at the trial. You were there. If I could just…” she hunched in on herself, the misery of not knowing pushing down on her.

“Oh Ahsoka.” Padmé rose, laying aside the datapad she was reading from and reaching out to hug the younger woman. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“She was my _friend_ ,” Ahsoka’s voice broke. “At least I thought she was. But bombing the Temple… How did I not see this coming?”

Padmé led Ahsoka to the couch, settling them both onto its plush surface before slipping an arm around Ahsoka’s shoulders. Exhausted, Ahsoka let herself lean into the older woman’s touch and be soothed by the compassion that flowed from Padmé in waves.

“I want to watch the trial,” Ahsoka said finally. “Did you make a recording?”

Padmé nodded, both of them ignoring that military jurisdiction forbade the use of any recording devices in military proceedings. “I did.”

So from the couch of a senator’s private sitting room, Ahsoka watched her friend go to trial for murder, for treason, and for a host of other crimes that washed over Ahsoka like a rolling wave of filth, while she tried desperately not to burst into tears.

The recording ended on Chancellor Palpatine’s closing comments: a rousing speech that praised the efforts of those guarding against the machinations of the Separatists and encouraged the public to remain ever vigilant against evil. Ahsoka listened and wondered if any of the people in the recording had noticed just how much blame and suspicion Palpatine had heaped on the Jedi Order.

She wondered if the Council had noticed.

Padmé’s arm hadn’t moved since she’d turned on the recording and Ahsoka let herself relax into the comfort offered, trying not to cry as her stomach knotted and twisted and surged into her throat, cutting off her voice when she tried to speak. But Padmé carefully tightened her grip without being asked, pulling Ahsoka into a hug that unraveled all her carefully constructed shields and released the dam that held her tears at bay.

When her tears finally dried, she felt as though she’d been scraped clean and hollow, the anger and grief of Barriss’ betrayal being the final pebble that shattered the cliff, leading all of her hidden griefs and hurts into the light.

“I wish Anakin was here,” she said miserably, in the voice of a child that lost a parent, a sister that lost a brother.

“Me too,” Padmé replied, and Ahsoka pressed in closer, listening to the grief that neither of them could voice: the loss of a friend, a brother, a lover… 

But there was something else there. Something…

Ahsoka shot upright, out of Padmé’s embrace, and stared at the older woman in shock, her eyes flicking between Padmé’s face and her still-flat stomach.

“You’re pregnant?” Ahsoka asked.

Padmé colored, a tinge of pink highlighting her cheekbones and glancing across her ears. “Yes,” she replied, carefully folding her hands on her lap.

“And it’s…” Ahsoka winced, “Anakin’s?”

Padmé nodded, her flush growing.

“I knew about– I mean I’d guessed about the two of you,” Ahsoka stammered. “Skyguy wasn’t _that_ good about keeping secrets from me, but…” she sighed. “How far along are you?”

Padmé’s mouth twitched into a thin smile. “Only two months. The med droids think I conceived just before…” She pressed her hands to her stomach.

_Oh Skyguy_ , Ahsoka thought, _I wish you’d just_ told _me._

Ahsoka covered Padmé’s hands with her own, her gaze sincere as she met the other woman’s startled brown eyes. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t tell. I want to help.”

Padmé smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka smiled back. “Are you going to stay in the Senate?”

Padmé shook her head. “I don’t know. For now, definitely. But rumors of the trial are already spreading.” She looked at Ahsoka, her gaze serious. “There are already some senators calling for a reduction in Jedi involvement in the war.”

“There are always senators like that,” Ahsoka scoffed.

“No,” Padmé replied. “Not like this. There’s a lot more than usual, for one thing, and for another…” she looked scared. “I’m worried, Ahsoka. With Anakin and Obi-wan gone… this war isn’t going well, is it?”

Ahsoka sighed. “No. No it isn’t. I’m not on the Council so I don’t get all the reports, but Rex tells me that the GAR is being stretched too thin. We’re beginning to send out battalions with non-Jedi commanders. And the battalions with Jedi commanders are being sent out without breaks between deployments.”

“I was afraid of that,” Padmé murmured, her hands twisting in her lap.

The moment stretched out between them, weighted down by old griefs and new fears.

“I’ll make arrangements on Naboo,” she said finally. “I don’t plan on leaving yet, but I’m not… I can’t stay if the Senate gets much worse.” She feathered her hands over her stomach. “Not with this one.”

“I’ll help,” Ahsoka replied. “Whenever you need me, I’ll help.”

_I’ll help,_ she promised her Master, wherever he was. _I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com/)


	5. Cold Eyes and Bright Claws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebel Fleet is under attack by the shadowy figure known as DRAIGH. With new revelations about Padmé and this threat to his newfound family, Anakin goes into battle against the Sith Lord.
> 
> There he discovers some troubling information about his time in the stasis pod and the potential whereabouts of his former Master, OBI-WAN KENOBI.

_Endurance, Rebel Fleet, somewhere in the Outer Rim; 3 years after the Battle of Yavin_

“ _Action stations. Action stations. The fleet is at threat condition one. Repeat. Action Stations. Action Stations. All hands prepare for Imperial bombardment.”_

The ship shook again, this time ended with a shuddering rattle at the shield strained under the force of the blasts. Footsteps pounded in the corridor outside as groups of fighter pilots–judging from the bright orange uniforms–charged down the hall to the fighter bays.

Ahsoka glanced up from her comlink. “We need to get to the bridge,” she told Padmé, her lekku twitching restlessly. “It’s Draigh.”

Rex cursed, his weathered face creasing under his beard. “I better get my boys to the guns. We’re gonna need them.” 

Ahsoka nodded. “Go. Tell Commander Skywalker I’ll be out there shortly.”

He saluted and disappeared into the chaos in the corridor, followed closely by Jesse and Kix.

Ahsoka gestured to Anakin. “Come on, Master. Let’s get up to the bridge. You still remember how to use that tactics training of yours?” 

Anakin grinned at her teasing, though it felt flat and awkward in the face of the alarms wailing throughout the ship. “It hasn’t been that long, Snips.”

She led him unerringly through the rushing crewmembers, following in Padmé’s wake – though he hadn’t seen her leave – through the corridors until they reached the familiar expanse of a Venator-class star destroyer’s command center. Most of the technicians and officers manning the stations barely glanced up at his passing, though some of the older crew – clones, he realized, they were all clones – looked at him like they’d seen a ghost before hurriedly turning back to their work.

“Admiral!” Ahsoka called to a man dressed in an Alderaanian uniform that looked vaguely familiar. “How’s the fleet?”

The man grimaced. “The fleet’s holding, General, but they’ve got us boxed in and are closing fast. I recommend moving Starbird to the _Falcon_ immediately.”

“We’ve covered this, Admiral Antilles, I’m not going anywhere,” Padmé looked up from the holo-table in the back that showed the fleet positions. “My son is out there. I will not leave him behind. Nor will I abandon the Rebellion.”

“Admiral Ackbar’s orders were–”

“I’m aware of Admiral Akbar’s orders, Admiral. You may inform him, if you wish, that it is my orders you are following.”

Admiral Antilles winced, but turned back to the fight.

Anakin stared at Padmé in amazement. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen her take charge before, or even put down other Senators when they made fun of her age, her ideas, or even her system. Before, when she’d been in the senate, her natural command presence had been softened by diplomacy and protocol, now… Now it seemed that two decades away fighting in a resistance had sharpened a side of his wife that Anakin realized he’d never really seen.

A panel on the starboard side of the bridge exploded into sparks and he quickly shoved away the bubbles of giddy happiness that always seemed to rise up whenever he and Padmé worked together before stepping towards the holo-table to analyze the fight. He brushed his hand along Padmé’s elbow when he reached the table, giving her a nod and a smile when she looked up at him. Her eyes widened slightly at the approval in his gaze before her face relaxed and she nodded back in acknowledgment, a faint flush sitting high on her cheekbones.

The Empire’s fighters were pretty decent, Anakin noticed as he looked at the holo-table. They were formulaic pilots as opposed to instinctual–which meant they weren’t able to react as quickly to the Rebellion’s strafe-and-run attacks–but they had numbers and repetitive training on their side. And it was the numbers that would definitely cause a problem.

He moved to the control panel for the holo-table–thankful that it was the same model he’d used in the clone wars–and the chatter of the Rebel pilots filled the bridge.

_“Watch your tail Rogue Six–”_

“ _–Gold Three, Gold Two, cover me. I’m–_ ”

_“–can’t shake ‘em! I can’t–”_

_“Keep your head, Acer, I’ve got you.”_

_“–copy, Gold Leader, headed for the star destroyer–”_

_“–the frak is Green squad? We need those A-wings!”_

A familiar voice cut through the din. “ _Keep it together, Korso_ ,” Luke said, his voice echoing over the coms. “ _All wings, I want you split into groups of three. Red Group, fall back to the_ Endurance _, keep the fighters off her. Gold Group, I want you coming in from the stern. Rogue Group, we’re coming up from under the bow. Keep it together guys.”_

_“Copy Rogue Leader.”_

Anakin blinked at the holo-display, his eyes fixing on one fighter that darted around the big Imperial ships. “Is that… Luke?” he asked Padmé, motioning at the hologram. 

She nodded, a quiet pride showing in the satisfied creases around her eyes. “He flies like you, you know,” she told him. “He’s one of the best pilots in the Rebellion.”

He frowned at the display, foreboding lingering in his gut as he looked over the battle with his own experience as a filter. The kid – his _son_ – was good, and if he had just a dozen more fighters…

A red blip in the hologram caught his eye as it twisted and slithered through the Rebel formation, marking a jagged path towards Luke. He glanced at Ahsoka with a question ready on his lips only to freeze as she spat something pithy and rude–and possibly Mandalorian?– at the display, her face tensing under the weight of old, familiar anger.

“Ahsoka…?” he asked, his adrenaline ratcheting up at the tone in her voice.

“It’s Draigh,” she growled. “He’s the Emperor’s Hand. He’s been tasked with hunting Luke down since he destroyed the Death Star.” She pressed a control on the holo-table. “Rogue Leader, this is _Endurance_ , be advised. Draigh is on the field. I repeat. Draigh is on the field.”

“ _Understood Fleet._ _I have him in sensor range.”_

“Put me out there,” Anakin told Ahsoka. “I’m more than a match for this… Draigh or whoever he is. Put me out there.”

Ahsoka and Padmé shared a glance, their eyes communicating in the way that only old friends could. Ahsoka jerked her head in a nod. 

“There’s some X-wings in the main fighter bay. I’ll have one prepped,” she told him.

He grinned in satisfaction and with a last glance at Padmé’s stoic expression, he bolted from the bridge, throwing himself into the lift. The layout of the ship was mostly the same from what he remembered, with only a few minor changes made by whatever fixes a strapped-for-cash Rebellion had to make for a roughly thirty year old ship. The ship felt the same though, and if Anakin closed his eyes and forgot why he was running towards the fighter bay, then it could almost be like he was back on the _Resolute_. 

The _Endurance_ shook again, her alarms ratcheting up to a higher pitch, and he was jarred out of his nostalgic musings as he ran into the chaos of the fighter bay. Damaged ships were being towed into repair docks, their pilots being hustled onto stretchers and hurriedly shoved down corridors leading to the med bay. 

It wasn’t quite the same, Anakin acknowledged. The flight crews weren’t a sea of uniform gray anymore, interspersed with the white-armored clones. Instead beings of all shapes, sizes, and species were crowded together to move ships in and out of the hangar with maximum efficiency. 

“You Skywalker?”

Anakin turned to face a woman dressed in a gray and green flight-suit, her helmet tucked under her arm as she looked him up and down.

“I’m Lieutenant Shara Bey,” she told him, holding out her hand. “I fly with Green Squadron. General Tano said you were heading out. Need a partner?” At his quizzical look, she clarified. “Our wing leader and his second got shot down a week ago. They’re still in bacta. We’re not at full strength, but I figure they need everyone they can get.”

He shook her hand, noting how she gripped the synth-leather glove and the metal beneath without hesitation, and nodded at the closest ship, a wedge-shaped starfighter with laser burn by the cockpit. “That one yours?”

Shara grinned at him. “RZ-1 A-wing. Fast, maneuverable, and lightspeed capable. She’s carried me through destroying the Death Star, and quite a few other battles since.” She jerked her chin towards a gray starfighter with a long body and wings that looked similar to the Z-95 Headhunters he’d seen clones flying in the war. “You’re taking General Tano’s X-wing. General’s orders. I had the deck crew prep it for you.”

The star destroyer shuddered again as a few more starfighters careened back into the repair slots in the hangars, trailing smoke. Anakin rode the tremor with an ease born of long practice – pleasantly surprised when Shara did as well – before he nodded in acknowledgement and turned to sprint towards the offered starfighter. True to her word, the deck crew was waiting for his arrival and he had a flight helmet shoved on his head and was hustled into the cockpit in record time as the view-shield slid back into place.

It was similar to a Headhunter, Anakin realized as he took a quick minute to familiarize himself with the controls and the fighter’s astromech – a chirpy R4 unit – before he activated his thrusters and propelled himself into space.

The battle was chaos. The Rebellion was holding together admirably, but they'd lost too many that they couldn't afford to lose, and the Imperials knew it. With a muttered oath, he dove the X-wing into the thick of the fighting, scattering the oddly spherical fighters with their strange hexagonal wings like dry leaves in a stiff breeze. 

“Lieutenant,” he toggled his radio, “stick close if you can. We’re going to be in and out.”

“ _Don’t worry about me, Master Jedi,”_ she replied archly. “ _I can keep up._ ”

Anakin grinned at her mock-affronted tone, though she couldn’t see it. “Alright then,” he commed back, “in we go,” and opened up the throttle.

He swooped and danced the X-wing through the battle, feeling out the new fighter and letting chance pick his targets until he found an Imperial fighter with curved wings instead of flat that was hot on the trail of a blue and white X-wing. The Rebel pilot was _good,_ slipping in and out of debris fields and skimming close to the surface of the star destroyers to try and throw his tail. But the Imperial fighter stuck to him like glue, following the X-wing with an uncanny closeness that could only mean…

Curious, Anakin reached out with the Force, finding first the bright star of the Resistance pilot – it was Luke, he realized with a jolt – and then the creeping taint of the dark side, oozing forth from the Imperial fighter and assaulting Anakin’s senses with rage, fear, aggression, and an unsettling lack of any kind of self, just a singular, deadly purpose.

_Not my son, you don’t._ he snarled and dove, sending a flurry of laser fire across the Imperial’s wings and cockpit and queueing up two proton torpedos to finish the job.

With a dexterity only a Force wielder could manage, Draigh’s fighter spun away, narrowly avoiding a star destroyer but escaping with only minimal damage from Anakin’s initial laser bursts.

Luke’s voice crackled through the comms. “ _Thanks Ahsoka. He was really close on my tail that time.”_

“Not Ahsoka, I’m afraid.” Anakin said, his voice hesitant. 

There was a breath of silence, then Luke replied, “ _Glad to have you out here, Ben. Thanks for the save.”_

Ben? Why would Luke be calling him Ben if… 

Anakin cursed under his breath. Of all the times for him to be cautious and use a different name… he slammed his hand down on the comlink. “Anakin,” he told his son. “My name is Anakin. Skywalker, actually. My name is Anakin Skywalker and I’m…” he bit his lip to stop the stammering. “I’m your father.”

It was an eternity before his comlink crackled with Luke’s response.

_“Then… thanks. Dad.”_

Anakin’s breath caught, an apology pushing against his teeth, but the pinging of laser fire off his shields forced his concentration back to the battle. “I clipped your friend,” he told Luke once he’d dealt with the Imperial on his tail. “But he seems persistent. What do you want to do with him?”

Luke laughed. _“He does keep inviting himself to the party, doesn’t he?”_ He cut off, and another Imperial fighter went crashing to the star destroyer below. _“ Not much we can do about him yet. But if you have a suggestion for taking out those star destroyers though, I’m all ears.”_

Anakin glanced out his cockpit viewport as he and Luke made another pass. The star destroyers were obviously based off the Venator-class destroyers from the Clone wars, except for those ridiculously obvious shield generators right above the bridge…

He snorted. “You see those shield generators?”

_“We’ve tried for them before, but the fire from the guns was too strong.”_

“You and I will worry about the guns,” Anakin told him. “We’ll take a squadron of Y-wings on a bombing run while everyone else hits the shield emitters.”

_“You take the guns. I’ll handle the bomb run.”_

Anakin blinked at his comlink. “You sure?”

There was a grin in Luke’s voice. _“Trust me. Just remember to use an open channel.”_

Quizzical, Anakin complied. “R4, open a channel to the Resistance fleet.

“All Resistance pilots, this is Anakin Skywalker. Form up on my position. We’re taking a run at those gun emplacements while Rogue Leader handles the shield emitters.”

The Force shivered with a surge of triumph and awe as soon as his name hit the airwaves, and the Resistance pilots broke off their attacks and fell in behind Anakin.

_“This is Rogue group, checking in–”_

_“–Gold group, checking in–”_

_“–is Red group. Our wing leader’s down, but we’re ready to fight, just–”_

_“–show those damn Imps what happens when you mess with a Skywalker–”_

_“–nice working with you, Master Skywalker–”_

_“Good hunting,”_ Luke said over a private channel as his X-wing split off and angled towards the shield emitters of the closest star destroyer, followed by a squadron of Y-wings.

Anakin grinned the kind of grin that would have had the entire 501st double checking their armor integrity and ammo packs and reopened the channel to the Rebel fighters. “Alright everyone, let’s clear these Imperials out of our system. Keep your formations loose and fly low, it’ll confuse their targeting. Watch each other’s backs and call out when you see Draigh. I want to have a chat with him.”

A smattering of laughter echoed back across the channel as Anakin pulled his X-wing around for the first pass. Imperial fighters – TIE fighters, R4 informed him – came at him in a flood, their green laser fire peppering his shields. He ducked and weaved to avoid them, grinning when the TIE fighters exploded into a shower of sparks and shrapnel just before a squad of A-wings shot through where the enemy fighters had been. 

“Nice work, Lieutenant Bey,” he said, and dove into his attack run. 

The feel of the battle shifted, the Imperials scrambling to pick up the pieces even as Anakin and the Rebellion cut the TIE fighters to bits. It was jarring, Anakin noticed, to hear various voices when he was used to clones, but the Rebellion pilots were trained well and they followed his lead smoothly and without question

On his fifth or sixth pass, the Force tugged at him, pulling his attention to his sensors, though nothing registered aside from the Imperial fighters and the few remaining gun emplacements. 

_“Master Skywalker,”_ Lieutenant Bey’s voice cut through his comm chatter. _“Draigh’s been spotted, coming in off the portside bow.”_

Anakin’s sensors pinged. “I see him,” he said, pulling his fighter around. “Keep on those guns, I’ll take care of him.” He opened a different channel. “Luke, keep an eye out, Draigh’s back.”

“ _Understood.”_

Draigh’s curved-wing TIE fighter lurked at the edge of the battlefield, making only minute movements to avoid stray laserfire or strike at Rebel ships that came too close. _Draigh looks like he’s waiting for something_ , Anakin mused as he moved closer, before shuddering at the feeling of _rot_ that seeped into the Force from the small craft.

_Definitely a trap_ , he thought a moment later when he entered the TIE fighter’s weapons range but didn’t come under fire. But his sensors were still silent, registering only the now-distant battle going on behind him and the single, blinking blip of the enemy craft ahead. _So what am I missing?_

With a grating crackle, the X-wing controls sparked and died as Anakin yelped in shock, echoed by R4’s offended squawk as the fighter started to drift listlessly through space. Anakin cursed, his fingers moving over the smoking controls, but nothing responded.

“ _Skywalker…”_ the comms crackled. 

“R4, I really need those controls back, buddy,” Anakin said, foreboding curling in his stomach. 

The comms hissed again and a hologram flickered to life in front of him, showing a figure swathed in dark robes and a helmet with a blank, ovoid faceplate. 

“ _Hello Skywalker,”_ the figure hissed, the Dark Side reaching towards Anakin with every word. 

Anakin slammed his mental shields down tight as the Dark Side roiled towards him, probing, _reaching_. “You must be Draigh,” he said, trying to hide the frantic movements his hands were making over the controls. “I gotta say, I’m kind of underwhelmed.”

Draigh’s helmet tilted, just slightly, at Anakin’s mention of his name, the blank, featureless face of it glinting in the light of the hologram. “You’re a long way from home, Jedi,” he hissed.

“I’ll say,” Anakin grinned. “Shouldn’t you be in a museum somewhere, Sith?”

Rasping laughter rattled through the hologram. _“My ‘museum’ is built upon the bones of your people, Jedi. Say what you like, you will join them soon.”_

A sensor panel flickered to life in the corner of Anakin’s eye, followed by two more as R4 began to regain control of the X-wing’s systems. He kept his gaze focused firmly on the hologram. “Where’s your master then, Apprentice?” he asked, wracking his brain for the lessons Obi-wan had taught him on the Sith… “Is he too afraid to face me? Or are _you_ really the best he could send?”

Draigh’s hiss shivered into Anakin’s ears. _“Pray you never meet him, Jedi, or you will wish for death before the end.”_

The X-wing hummed under his hands as R4 charged the engines and Anakin grinned, triumphant. “Not today, Sith,” he said, and sent his fighter into a downward spiral, Draigh’s snarl echoing back over the hologram until Anakin slammed his metal fist on the communications panel, cutting him short.

“Full power, R4,” Anakin said. “Let’s get out of here.”

R4 beeped in response and the X-wing leapt forward, rushing back to the main dogfight with Draigh close behind.

Anakin glanced at the sensor boards, grimacing at Draigh’s TIE fighter signature. “Hey buddy,” he told R4, “see what you can do to get me connected to the fleet again. Whatever that sleemo did scrambled our comms.”

R4 burbled, then beeped a warning as laser fire sparked against the X-wing’s aft shields.

Anakin cursed, throwing the fighter into a spiraling dive towards the looming star destroyer. “Alright, sleemo,” he said as he pulled out of the dive, Draigh still hot on his heels. “Let’s dance.”

He dove again, pulling up only when the star destroyer would have done more than skim the paint off the X-wing if he hadn’t corrected course before leading Draigh on a merry chase in between burned out gun emplacements and drifting scrap piles of TIE fighters and X-wings alike.

R4 chirped as the communications panel flared back to life.

_“–kin,_ Anakin, _this is Ahsoka, please come in. Come on, Skyguy, answer your comms–”_

“Ahsoka,” Anakin interrupted. “Sorry. Slight problem with the comms.”

Ahsoka sighed. “ _Does your ‘slight problem’ have anything to do with Draigh following you like a flea on a bantha?”_

He rolled to avoid another incoming barrage of laser fire. “Maybe.”

_“Well if you can shake him, do it. The rest of the fleet has already jumped out of the system. It’s just the_ Endurance _left.”_

“What about the rest of the fighters?”

_“They’re already on their way back. Think you can make it?”_

“Are you kidding, Snips?” he smirked. “Draigh may be a Sith lord, but even he can’t out-fly _me_.”

The X-wing shuddered, the yoke snapping to the side, leaving Anakin cursing as he leveled the fighter out, alarms blaring across all of his sensor boards.

_“Anakin…”_

“Totally fine, Snips.” He glanced out the side of the cockpit, wincing at the smoke emanating from the left wing. “Everything’s under control.”

Ahsoka snorted. _“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”_

“Hey, I–” Anakin started, only to wince as a control panel died in a shower of sparks. “I may have had better fights,” he admitted.

_“D– Anakin,”_ Luke said over the comms. _“I’m coming up behind. I’ll clear Draigh off you.”_

On his sensors, Draigh’s ship veered off back towards the star destroyer as a friendly marker blinked into existence behind Anakin’s X-wing. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thanks Luke.”

_“Don’t mention it. Let’s head home.”_

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin emerged from the cockpit to a storm of cheering, as the pilots that had landed around him applauded wildly at his arrival. The air in the hangar was thick with ozone from the spent laser cannons and the stench of oxidized metal. But Anakin only had eyes for a blue and white X-wing, scorched on the edges, that glided into a free repair slot. 

He yanked the flight helmet off and tossed it into the seat before placing a hand on the side of the cockpit and vaulted to the ground, ignoring the ladder entirely. He glanced up at his R4 unit, being lifted from the astromech slot by the crane. 

“Hey buddy,” he remarked as it descended. “Doing alright?”

R4 chirped back at him, it’s green and gold domed head swiveling back and forth in excitement. 

Anakin grinned at the droid, his grin growing wider as the astromech let forth a stream of enthusiastic binary. “Yeah, you did good too. Thanks.” He patted the top of the droid’s dome before taking a closer look at the damage Draigh had done to his–Ahsoka’s really–x-wing and wincing.

“What happened out there?” Luke asked, relaxed but curious. He was still in his orange flight-suit, his hair pressed to his head from sweat.

Anakin glanced at his son–his _son–_ noting his carefully neutral body language and the faint thread of uncertainty in the Force. “Draigh apparently wanted to have a chat,” he replied, nonchalantly slouching against a nearby supply crate.

Luke frowned. “Odd, he’s never done that before. He normally shoots to kill. I wonder what changed…” He trailed off, a faint flush riding high on his cheekbones as his words fell flat into the bubble of silence that surrounded them within the stream of bustling workers.

Anakin shifted, conscious of the weight of all the years that lay between them, and of the regret that followed. “Luke, I–” he started, only to be brought up short by the shrill beeping of Luke’s comlink.

Luke grimaced apologetically at him before answering. “Skywalker here.”

_“Luke, we need you and Anakin up on the bridge.”_ Ahsoka said, her voice echoing through the comm. _“Is he with you?”_

“Yeah,” Luke replied, “he’s here. We’re on our way.”

_“Come quickly. Ahsoka out.”_

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Padmé and Ahsoka were standing with Admiral Antilles at the holo-table, their backs to the rest of the bridge, when Anakin and Luke burst into the room, both men narrowly avoiding running over a technician wrestling with a sparking panel by the door. 

Anakin winced as he took in the destruction in the room. The bridge crew were coping admirably, but the _Endurance_ wasn’t a young ship, and it showed. Still, the frantic bustle of the bridge technicians was nothing compared to the frustration and foreboding that emanated from the back half of the bridge.

Admiral Antilles stepped aside as Anakin and Luke came closer, making a space for the two men beside Padmé and Ahsoka, who turned to look at them with grim expressions.

“We have a problem,” Ahsoka said without preamble. “We intercepted a transmission from the Empire just before we jumped into hyperspace.” She pressed a control on the holo-table and a hologram leapt into being.

Draigh stood there, tinted blue by the light of the hologram, hooded and cloaked with strips of robes that wrapped like bands around his chest and arms, the ragged ends dangling against two clawed, metal legs. The hood obscured Draigh’s face, but Anakin knew from his own experience that underneath that shadow, there was nothing but a blank, featureless expanse.

_“You think you’ve won today, Starbird,”_ he hissed. _“You think that your fighters and your strategies and yes, your new-found_ Skywalker _will save your pitiable Rebellion from the might of my master’s wrath.”_ He laughed, a dry, rasping chuckle that rattled around the room and brought all work to a halt. _“Do you think the Hero With No Fear will save you? He is the broken half of an incomplete set. The longer you delude yourselves, the more time I have to hunt you down and_ crush _you.”_ His tone dripped with sickening satisfaction. _“I look forward to it.”_

He spread his arms wide. _“To any of the Rebellion who cares to listen, if you bring me Anakin Skywalker, the hero that_ abandoned _the Republic in its time of great need, and bring him to me, I promise that–”_

Ahsoka slapped at the holo-table controls, cutting the recording short. “Not gonna happen,” she muttered. “I don’t care what that sleemo offers.”

Silence gathered over the holo-table, disturbed only by the slow resumption of activity amongst the bridge technicians until Luke stepped forward, his expression pensive.

“How did they find us?” he asked, staring thoughtfully at Draigh’s frozen figure on the holo-table. “The fleet was only here for a few hours. Just long enough to pick up D– Anakin and then leave again. How did they get here so quickly?”

“Perhaps the Empire intercepted our transmissions,” Admiral Antilles offered, though the look on his face suggested he’d rather not be saying it at all.

Ahsoka frowned. “We changed the codes last week. If they’ve broken them that fast, then we must have–”

Something about Draigh’s comments niggled at Anakin, tugging here and there in his mind. “Luke?” he asked, turning to his son. “How did you find me? Back when you and Leia got me out of the stasis pod. How did you know I was there?”

“We interrupted Imperial reports about a Clone Wars-era weapon,” Luke replied.

“And how did the Empire find me?”

Leia stepped forward from where she’d been standing next to the doors of the bridge. “The early reports didn’t say, just that the Emperor has personally ordered archaeological teams to the site.”

Ahsoka glanced pensively at Anakin. “What are you going for, Skyguy?”

“If the Jedi couldn’t find me,” he said. “If _you_ couldn’t find me, then how could the Emperor?”

“The Force,” Luke said, beginning to look queasy. “Ahsoka, you said that the Sith can access the Dark side of the force. What if…” he swallowed hard. “What if they can use it to track the Rebellion?”

Leia scoffed. “Then they would have found us before now, and they never have.”

“But now I’m here,” Anakin said, a chill settling in his spine. “I’m here and you’re here,” he motioned at Luke and Leia, “and Ahsoka’s here…” He trailed off as the dawning looks of horror on everyone’s faces. “Ahsoka,” he asked carefully, “how many Jedi survived the purge?”

Ahsoka had gone nearly as pale as the white stripes of her lekku. “Not enough,” she said. “A couple hundred at best, even if we count the ones who were only rumored to have survived.”

“Are any of them stronger than the four of us?”

She shook her head, her mouth thinning at her realization.

Padmé was looking between the twins and Anakin consideringly, so he elaborated, despite his stomach’s uneasy somersaults.

“Except for a few of the High Council members,” he told her. “I was one of the strongest Jedi in the Order. There used to be thousands of us. Now, with only a few hundred, it’s possible that Ahsoka, y– _our_ children –” he chanced a glance at Leia as he said the words, though her only reaction was a slight widening of her eyes, “– and I are probably the strongest Jedi in the galaxy right now. 

He could see the ideas whirling behind Padmé’s eyes as she silently digested the news. Her stillness grated at him, being so unlike what his response would have been if this had been the Clone Wars. But… this was _Padmé_. While she had certainly gotten him into interesting scrapes in the past, she’d rarely ever steered him wrong. Now he could feel the weight of experience behind her contemplation, so he bit his tongue and waited.

“You’re certain of this?” she asked.

His mouth twisted. “This sort of thing was always more Master Yoda’s field than mine, but when I faced Draigh earlier,” he paused, trying to shake off the residual chill from his encounter with the Sith, “I could feel him… reaching for me.” He straightened, trying to recall some of the authority that had come so easily to him in the Clone Wars. “I wouldn’t risk it.”

“You can’t be thinking of leaving,” Ahsoka cut in, frowning.

He smiled, but it was halfhearted at best. “I’m the only new variable here, Snips. I don’t like it either, but if Draigh can track me, then I’m putting all of you in danger.” He looked back at Padmé. “I won’t risk that.”

Something flickered behind Padme’s eyes, but her voice was steady when she asked, “Where will you go?”

“To look for Obi-wan,” he said, setting his shoulders. “I have to try.”

“Master Kenobi vanished about the same time as yourself, Master Skywalker,” Admiral Antilles said. “How do you expect to find him?”

“I might know a way,” Ahsoka said before Anakin could respond. She pulled up the star map before highlighting a system on the Outer Rim. “That planet is strong in the Force. We might be able to use that to find Obi-wan.”

Anakin blinked. “‘We?’ No, Snips, there is no ‘we.’ You can’t come with me on this.”

She raised a brow-marking at him. “I went looking for Obi-wan too, Anakin. I’m not going to let you do this alone.”

“Nor are we,” Luke said, standing beside his sister. Leia’s face was carefully neutral and her emotions were hidden behind some pretty impressive mental shielding, but she had the same mulish set to her mouth that her brother had. Clearly, neither of them were willing to budge.

Anakin sputtered. “The point of me leaving is so that we _don’t_ create a beacon in the Force for the Sith to track. If you come with me then that defeats the–”

“A single ship will be more maneuverable than a fleet,” Leia said, fixing Anakin with a calm stare that looked so like her mother’s that Anakin almost had to shake himself to get rid of the double image.

“Anakin,” Padmé said, scattering his thoughts. “Walk with me.”

He followed her off the bridge into the corridor beyond, his steps kept short to match her measured pace. Padmé kept silent until a lull in the corridor’s traffic reached them. Then she turned.

“I think you should take them with you.” She raised a hand to stop his protests. “Ani, you were gone for so long and now you’ve been returned to us. Can you blame them for wanting to stay close?”

His voice died in his throat, this reasons and explanations withering under the weight of the old grief he could see lurking in her dark amber eyes.

“You will go,” Padmé told him. “You will take our daughter and our son and Ahsoka and you will find Obi-wan.” She touched his cheek, old grief welling up in the Force. “And then you _will_ come back, Ancestors willing.”

He caught her hand as it drew away from his face, squeezing it tight and leaning his forehead against hers until their breath mingled.

“I’ll come back, I promise,” he whispered.

She laughed, though there was no mirth in the sound.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com/)


	6. "Not a perfect soldier..."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BATTLE FOR RINGO VINDA! Republic and Separatist forces are locked in heated combat over a space station that encircles the planet.
> 
> With both sides deadlocked, Ahsoka Tano and the Jedi Masters Tiplee and Tiplar mount a daring and reckless offensive to break the stalemate…

_Space station in orbit around Ringo Vinda, Mid Rim Territory; 2.5 years after the Battle of Geonosis_

Blaster fire flew thick and heavy past her face as Ahsoka whirled down the corridor, lightsabers flashing. Behind her the 501st pushed forward, shooting down battle droids before she could reach them while she redirected blaster bolts at the ones her men missed. Darting forward, she sliced through a knot of droids huddled behind a bend in the corridor, leaving only smoking heaps of metal to bar the way to the next blast door.

“Push forward!” she shouted. “We almost have them!”

A veritable flood of blaster-fire was the 501st’s response.

Rex stayed close on her left – though he was careful to stay out of the way of her sabers as she swept them in front of her – and two shield-troopers stayed close on her right, their shields sending echoing thuds down the hallway as they advanced. All they needed was one final push and… There!

Ahsoka and her men spilled into the Separatists’ Communication post, Masters Tiplee and Tiplar flanking the remaining droids from a side door. Outnumbered, the droids only lasted a measly few minutes before they fell, one by one, smoking and singed.

“Well done, Master Tano,” Master Tiplee said, after the last droid had fallen, ”but we must get to the primary command post. Admiral Trench has sent for reinforcements. We must take that post before they arrive.”

“Agreed, Master Tiplee,” Ahsoka replied. “Rex? Status.”

“Ammo and explosives are fine, General. And we’re only down seven men. We can make the push.”

“Right,” Ahsoka nodded, “so here’s the plan.” She pulled out the holo-map of the station, zooming in until the section they were in was highlighted. “Master Tiplar, take your men down this passageway. Master Tiplee, down this one. Rex and I will press through the middle. If we do this right, they’ll have to divide their forces to meet us, making them weak enough for us to push our way through. Any questions?”

“If we’re making a run, we’ll need backup,” Doom, Tipar and Tiplee’s commander, spoke up, inscrutable behind his helmet, “My men are severely depleted.”

“Right,” Ahsoka said, glancing at her men to see which ones she could send with him. “Fives, take Tup and ten of your best men and accompany the Commander and Master Tiplar.”

Fives nodded. “We’re on it sir.”

Ahsoka swiped the holo-projector off the ground, stuffing it into a belt pouch as she rose. Three of her men were cutting through the locks the Separatists had placed on the doors to slow the Republic advance and Ahsoka moved to stand behind them, her sabers primed to slice through any droids hiding behind the door. Rex stepped into his usual place at her left and she felt the last of her pre-battle nerves settle, her spirits buoyed by the implacable calm emanating from the clone captain.

“Ready when you are, General,” said the trooper cutting through the last of the lock.

Ahsoka settled into a ready stance. “In 3, 2, 1, mark.”

The blast door slid open and Ahsoka veiled her senses with the Force, feeling more than seeing the wave of flash-bombs and droid-poppers roll through the newly-opened door. The second the last explosion dissipated she surged forward, her sabers flickering in a mesmerizing whirlwind of destruction.

With their optics scrambled from the flash-bombs, the remaining droids were left reeling, unable to defend against Ahsoka’s charge and flashing sabers. Her men poured out of the door behind her, blasters up and firing as Ahsoka fell into the pattern of deflecting blaster bolts and darting forward to slice tinnies in half that had defined the battles thus far on Ringo Vinda. Together, she and the 501st flowed down the corridor like an onrushing tide, rolling over the few lightly defended embankments the Separatists had set up to defend the way to their main command post.

In no time at all, she and her men broke through the final blast door and poured into the room, quickly taking up a defensive perimeter with Master Tiplar and Master Tiplee’s men to assist them. Glancing up, Ahsoka could see the distant figure of Admiral Trench through the transparisteel of the control room at the far end of the large open hall the battle was located in. Slicing through a droid, she firmly tamped down on the giddy triumph that bubbled in her chest at the sight. After days of back-and-forth fighting along cramped space-station corridors, it would be far too easy to over-extend at the wrong time and lose everything they had fought for. 

She was cleaving the rocket packs off a super battle droid when the Force suddenly _screamed_ around her, a churning vortex of anger–grief–fear–triumph–resignation sounding the death knell of a Jedi Master, and Ahsoka staggered under its weight.

 _There’s no way a droid got past us, past_ her. _She’s_ Master Tiplar _, so how did…_

Beneath the shudders of Master Tiplar’s death something tugged at Ahsoka, pulling her gaze to a trooper – his helmet off – standing just behind and to the left of where Tiplar had stood, his blaster still raised and smoking.

 _Oh Tup,_ Ahsoka thought as she watched Tup’s blaster slowly swing towards her as she stood frozen, his eyes eerily blank. _What happened to you?_

The rest of the world faded into obscurity, into silence, and she realized that she might not ever be able to find Anakin the way she had planned, or protect Padmé and the child of her best friend. _Skyguy, I’m sorry…_

A wall of plastoid alloy charged into her, knocking her off her feet, out of Tup’s line of fire, and throwing the world back into focus. She slammed into the floor, with Rex falling into a crouch above her, shooting at droids with both blasters and yelling at someone to keep Tup restrained. The battle roared back into existence around her, though she could feel the focus of the men around her falter as more and more of them realized what had occurred. 

“–General!” Rex was shouting, with an edge of worry that Ahsoka didn’t often hear from him. “Are you hurt? Did he hit you?” He shook her slightly when she didn’t answer. “ _Ahsoka–_ ”

“I’m fine, Rex,” she said, patting the hand he was using to grip her shoulder. “He didn’t shoot me.” She picked herself off the ground, slapping away a few errant blaster bolts with her shoto blade.

With his helmet on, Ahsoka couldn’t see the expression on Rex’s face, but the emotions coming from him in the Force spoke clearly enough: fear, anger, frustration, _someone’s done something_ –

“–to Tup!” Rex shouted, picking off two more battle droids. “Fives says he’s not acting right.”

Ahsoka yanked her senses back where they belonged. “Pull everybody back,” she said, “we’ve lost too much momentum.” She jerked her head at Master Tiplar’s too-still body. “And I want to know what the kriff _that_ was about.”

Rex nodded and turned his head to the side, presumably speaking into his helmet tightbeam. Not a minute later the clones around her fell into an orderly retreat, moving back down the corridors they’d swept through not thirty minutes before and resealing the doors of the communications post once Ahsoka and the last of the clones were through.

With the doors sealed, Ahsoka looked for where Fives had taken Tup, noting the two distinct groups of clone troopers: the 501st, clustered in circles around a closet on the far sides of the communications center and Tiplar and Tiplee’s troops, gathered in a loose knot around the body of their fallen general and her grieving sister.

“Why?” Master Tiplee asked as Ahsoka approached, the clones parting to make room, “Why’d he do this?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “I don’t know. But I promise, I will find out.”

Tiplee nodded, her head-tendrils swaying. She was too good of a Jedi to outwardly show emotion, but the Force fairly _shrieked_ with the outpouring of grief and sorrow from the other woman. 

Feeling battered and bruised by the tumultuous emotions resonating throughout the room, Ahsoka turned towards the closet around which the 501st had taken up watch, her men stepping aside just enough to let her through before closing behind her. Rex met her just before the door, stopping her before she stepped inside, worry and anger visible in every line of his body.

“How is he?” Ahsoka asked.

“It’s like he just… snapped,” he replied. “I don’t think you should go in there, General. We don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

She offered up a (hopefully) reassuring smile, “If I can help him, Rex, I have to try,” before stepping around him and towards the open doorway. “Tup, can you hear me?”

Tup was slumped in the middle of the closet floor, his arms tied behind his back, and surrounded by Fives, Kix, and Jesse. At the sound of Ahsoka’s question he stirred fitfully, muttering under his breath.

“Tup.” Rex strode past her and shook the trooper’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Rex’s touch seemed to rouse the trooper. “Commander?” Tup asked, straining against his bonds. “I- What’s going on?”

Rex knelt until he could make eye contact. “That’s what we were hoping you could tell us. Do you know what you’ve done?”

Tup shook his head. “I- I don’t… I can’t…”

“You killed General Tiplar. And you tried to kill General Tano!”

Tup just kept muttering and shaking his head.

“Tup?” Ahsoka stepped forward, keeping her tone gentle. “What happened?”

Tup’s mutterings grew louder and he struggled even more against his restraints. “Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers–”

“What is he talking about?” Rex asked as Kix came forward to check his friend’s vitals.

“No idea,” Fives replied, looking grim. His armor had bright new scrapes down the front and Ahsoka only just then realized who had taken Tup down.

“We need to find out,” Ahsoka said, anger shivering down her spine. “Someone’s done this to him and we need to–”

Tup lunged, his terrifyingly blank gaze focused on Ahsoka. Startled, she staggered back, her hands twitching in an aborted movement towards her sabers. But before he could reach her, the Force hummed and Tup was lifted into the air, held suspended off the floor by Master Tiplee, who’d come up behind Ahsoka.

Tup raged in place, chanting his muttered refrain fighting to reach for the two Jedi until the Mikkian Jedi slammed him into the back of the closet.

“We have to get him back to the medical bay,” Ahsoka said, glancing at Tiplee as Fives and Jesse worked Tup back into his restraints. “We need to figure out what’s wrong with him before he hurts someone else.”

Tiplee stared with narrowed eyes at Tup for several long minutes, her face unreadable. Then she nodded tightly at Ahsoka and left to go back to her vigil for her sister as Fives and Jesse dragged Tup out of the closet and over to the floating gurneys at the makeshift trauma station.

“Don’t worry, General,” Kix said, trying for calm. “We’ll get him there.”

Ahsoka nodded her thanks, and watched Fives, Jesse, and Kix load Tup onto a gurney and strap him down. Something was niggling at her, like the faint wiggle of a loose tooth or an intermittent noise with an unknown source. But when she stretched out her mind, the Force told her nothing, save that the incident had shaken the focus of every clone (and Jedi, she admitted to herself) here. 

But there was still something…

“General?” Rex asked, standing just behind her.

Ahsoka frowned at Tup’s gurney until it drifted out of sight. “I want to know the minute Kix finishes those scans.”

“Understood,” Rex responded. “And the Separatists?”

She sighed, exhaustion settling into her bones, but after a moment’s peace, she straightened and shoved it all aside. “Hold this room, Commander. I’ll confer with General Tiplee on our next plan of attack.”

Rex saluted and left to talk to the rest of the 501st. As her men dispersed to set up fortifications, Ahsoka was left alone with the sinking feeling that there was something desperately important that she should have noticed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rex woke her with a hand to her wrist, the feather-light brush of his gloved fingers nearly toppling her off the stack of munitions boxes she’d been resting on. She caught herself before she hit the ground, landing in a crouch instead of flat on the floor, and was grateful for the low light in the communications post that hid the rising flush on her cheeks.

“General,” Rex said, once Ahsoka had managed to pull herself upright. “Tup’s awake.”

“And the scans?” she asked, using the excuse of straightening her armor to tamp down on the sudden surge of dread in the pit of her stomach.

“Inconclusive,” Rex responded, his voice as carefully neutral as her own.

She sighed. “Of course. It’s never that easy.” She gave one last tug to her vambraces. “Let’s go.”

Tup was on the medical frigate _Stalwart_ , tucked away in one of the smaller med-bays and strapped thoroughly to a hardier version of the floating gurney he’d been loaded onto at the communications post. Fives and Jesse, waiting outside the door, straightened into a salute as Ahsoka approached, their worry and anger clouding the Force around them.

“How is he, Fives?” she asked.

Fives’ jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists. “General, I would like to apologize. I–”

She placed a hand on his vambraces. “It wasn’t your fault, Fives.”

He shook his head. “He said he wasn’t feeling right. If I’d just _listened_ –”

“Fives, _it’s not your fault_. If anything, It’s mine.” Ahsoka sighed. “I was right next to General Tiplar. I should have been able to sense _something,_ but even after Tup shot her I did nothing.”

“You couldn’t have known, General,” Jesse said, stepping forward. “If Tup had had some kind of mental break–”

“Jesse, you should know better,” Rex said. “We were made to withstand any stress.”

“I agree,” Kix said, stepping through the door to the medbay and letting it slide closed behind him. “It’s almost like he’s been drugged or brainwashed.”

“Your scans?” she asked.

Frustrated, Kix shook his head. “Still inconclusive. Something’s making him act like this, but I can’t seem to find what it is. With your permission, General, I’d like to send him back to Kamino. We don’t have the equipment out here to help him.”

“If it would help,” she offered, “I might be able to use the Force to see what’s wrong with him–”

“No!” Rex snapped, Fives, Kix, and Jesse echoing him.

Ahsoka blinked.

“With respect, General,” Rex said, modulating his tone. “Tup already tried to kill you once. We can’t take the chance that he’ll try again.”

“If Tup is still in there, then he wouldn’t want to be the one to hurt you, sir,” Fives said.

Jesse stepped forward. “We can move Tup to a shuttle to take him back to Kamino. With your authorization of course.”

Kix nodded. “That’s the best place for him.”

She looked between the four men facing her, trying to get a feel for them in the Force. There was worry, certainly – she’d felt that when Rex and the others had shouted at her – and anger also, for a lot of things, namely whomever or whatever had hurt their brother. But there was also the faintest thread of fear running underneath everything else. Not just fear for what Tup had become, but also fear for her, for what would become of her out of all this.

Her men were all usually so composed, so self-assured – which is what made their outburst so surprising – that Ahsoka wondered just when it was that they thought she’d become so integral to their continued existence.

Slowly, she nodded and stepped back. “Do it,” she told Jesse, who saluted and left.

“See what you can do from here,” she said to Kix. “Anything we might learn would be useful to see if there’s been Separatist involvement.”

Kix saluted and vanished into the medbay.

Ahsoka motioned to Rex and Fives, feeling them fall in at her left and right flanks as she turned to leave. “Until then, we need to continue our assault on the orbital station. Fives, rendezvous with Shadow Company and keep me appraised on their progress.”

“Yes sir.” He saluted and moved to leave, then paused. “Thank you for not killing Tup, sir.”

“This wasn’t him,” she replied. “And if someone thinks they’re going to compromise one of _my_ men, then we will just have to teach them differently.”

Fives smiled, his teeth gleaming ferally under the bright lights of the medical frigate. “With pleasure, sir.”

She watched him go, her fingers tapping an unconscious pattern on the base of her primary saber. Rex stood at her elbow, silent as always, waiting for her to make the first move.

“Let’s go,” she said eventually. “We have an orbital station to acquire.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shuttle was struck just as they resecured the command post, with only briefest flare of fear and anger in the Force to indicate that it happened at all. In hindsight, the Separatists had ceded the command post too easily, giving only a token resistance before folding and retreating to the next most easily defensible position in their territory. There, of course, they stuck like glue, closing and sealing the blast doors with locks that her troopers were still trying to break.

Fives was waiting when Ahsoka and Rex returned to the secured command post, helmet tucked under his arm and his face as still as stone. He handed her a datachip when she came close, barely leashed fury radiating from him like a cloud.

“They took him,” he said as she slid the chip into a holoprojector and quickly scanned the report. “The damn clankers took Tup.”

Ahsoka looked up sharply. “The Separatists?’

Fives nodded.

She frowned, her brow-markings furrowing. “If the Seppies took him…”

“That cinches it,” Rex said. “They must have had something to do with Tup breaking down like that.”

“Then we get him back,” Ahsoka said. She looked at Rex and Fives. “Do we know where he’s being held?”

Fives’ face didn’t change, but a faint thrum of hope began to seep into the Force. “I don’t know where he is, but we can track him from his locator beacon.”

“Then suit up,” she said, sliding the projector back into her belt pouches. “We leave as soon as you’re ready.”

An _Eta_ -class shuttle wasn’t exactly a stealth ship, but Ahsoka flew it close enough to the exterior of the station that the only way the droids inside would catch them is if they looked out a window. Beside her Two-fer worked his hands over the co-pilot’s controls, keeping an eye on the shuttle’s sensors and shields as they skimmed along the surface of the station. Fives and Rex were silent at her back, both men focused and alert under their helmets, and Ahsoka felt her adrenaline ratchet up, shivering along her veins as the shuttle plunged towards the faint signal from Tup’s locator.

“There,” Fives said, pointing at a hangar just a little ways in front of them. “His signal is getting stronger.”

“They must be preparing to move him, “Rex said, checking his blasters.

“Then we’ll hit them hard and fast,” Ahsoka said. “Let’s not leave Tup in their hands any longer than necessary.”

She brought the shuttle down on the south facing side of the station – upside down in terms of how the station’s grav-generators were facing – and touched down with hardly a bump to jar the landing. Two-fer slid into the pilot’s seat as she stood and stepped into her enviro-suit, strapping her helmet on over her montrals. Rex and Fives were already by the airlock, making the final adjustments to their helmets and re-breathers and they straightened at her approach.

It certainly wasn’t the first time that Ahsoka had worked with Rex and Fives. It wasn’t even the first time she’d done a covert mission like this. Before Anakin – she flinched from the thought – had vanished, it was more likely that it would be the two of them on a secret mission somewhere. Not undercover, of course, since neither of them had the training for it, but definitely covert. After she became a knight those types of missions had actually dropped off, due to how few Jedi knights there were left in the galaxy.

But this one was different.

They slipped through the shuttle’s airlock and drifted along the surface of the station, following the twists and corners until it abruptly turned and opened into a hangar crawling with Separatist droids.

Ahsoka hissed under her breath, noting the sheer number of droids moving about. Most were the standard battle droid, though there were a few squads of commando droids moving across the hangar. Super battle droids dotted the edges, clustered near a squadron of parked droid tri-fighters, and at the very back of the hangar stood a shuttle.

But she couldn’t see Tup.

“There,” Fives said, peering through his scope. “They’re loading him into the shuttle.”

Ahsoka pulled out her scope and scanned the back of the hangar, barely able to catch a glimpse of Tup on a gurney through the sea of droids.

“There must be a hundred droids in that hangar,” Rex said, “not to mention the starfighters.

Ahsoka nodded. “ _I_ might be able to get through them, but I’m open to better suggestions.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Fives said, and unclipped the grappling hook attachment for his blaster from his belt, slid it onto the end of his blaster, and aimed at the Separatist shuttle as its engines cycled to life.

Both Rex and Ahsoka stared at him, astonished for one silent moment before Rex spoke, “And that’s why he’s the ARC Trooper.”

Ahsoka grinned, a quick flash of teeth bared in a hunter’s snarl, and reached over to snag her fingers into Rex’s belt.

The clones secured their grappling hooks just as the Separatist shuttle roared by overhead, aiming for the open space between Republic patrols. Quick as thought, Fives and Rex fired at the shuttle’s underbelly as it shot into space, with Ahsoka wrapping the Force around all three of them to protect from the whiplash of acceleration.

She engaged her magboots the second they touched the hull, locking her feet to the metal with a hollow thunk before picking her way to the airlock. Fives was already there, splicing in a dataprobe to release the exterior lock without raising any alarms. The interior door didn’t even have encryption on its lock, and Ahsoka surged through it the minute it opened, her sabers slicing through the first few droids before they could even raise their blasters.

The rest of the droids rushed her, attempting to pin her against the wall and finish her off. But the cramped quarters of the shuttle betrayed them, preventing them from getting the space they needed to slide past her whirling sabers. The blades struck sparks from the walls as she pushed through the remaining commando droids to reach Tup’s gurney and blaster fire echoed around her as Rex and Fives finished off the droids she left crippled on the floor.

Her shoto blade was carving through the last remaining commando droid when the cockpit door slid open, revealing the broad shoulders and beady eyes of a tactical droid. Ahsoka immediately darted out of the way of his first strike – an overhead, two-handed blow that would have crushed her skull if it’d landed – and rebounded off the wall to slam her heel into the back of the tac-droid’s head.

The droid staggered, rattled for only a moment, then lashed out and grasped Ahsoka’s ankle, yanking her off her feet and pulling her into the air. She lashed out with her primary saber, separating the tac-droid from his left knee as blaster fire caromed off the droid’s head. Unbalanced, the stump of its left knee hit the ground, and Ahsoka reached up and sliced with her shoto blade, neatly severing the metal wrist of the hand grasping her ankle. Before it could grab her again, she rolled free, lifted an outstretched hand, and shoved the tac-droid with the Force, pinning it against the wall.

“What do you want with Tup?” she snarled, as the droid’s metal chassis creaked under the strain.

It stared at her impassively, the remains of its arm and leg still sparking. “I am programmed to resist interrogation.”

Ahsoka glared at it. “Of course you are,” she said, and struck, separating the droid’s head from its shoulders. She caught the head before it hit the deck and immediately pulled out a dataprobe from her belt pouches, inserting it at the back of the droid’s head and peering closely at the colored lights on the base of the probe. It flashed red and her breath caught. Red, red, red…. Green.

When the green light didn’t waver, Ahsoka released the breath she’d been holding and looked around to find Rex, tossing him the droid’s head.

“I want the slicers to see what they can get out of this one. Maybe it knows something about Tup.”

Rex caught the head with a nod, pulling out a net-like material from one of his belt pouches and wrapping the head with it before hanging the whole mass on his belt.

Fives was by Tup’s gurney, peering closely at the med-panel on the side. “General Tano?” he asked, turning to Ahsoka. “Tup isn’t doing well. We need to get him to Kamino as soon as possible.”

Tup was twitching on the gurney, his brow furrowed like he was in pain.

“Agreed,” Ahsoka said, carefully watching the sleeping clone. “ _Resolute?_ ” she called on her comlink. “This is General Tano. Authorize extraction at my coordinates. And hurry, we have wounded incoming.”

“Understood, General,” came the response. “Extraction incoming. Medical is on their way.”

Hopefully they’d be fast enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week after Fives and Tup departed for Kamino – in a Medical frigate instead of a shuttle and this time with more than just two ARC-170s for an escort – Ringo Vinda fell. Her boys celebrated with cheers when the last droid outpost crumpled under the onslaught of blaster fire, but when Ahsoka wiped aside a slick of oil from her brow and looked back at Rex, she could tell he was thinking the same thing she was.

It had been far too easy.

The 501st had swept through the enemy lines with little effort, and had found no sign of the Separatist leader, Admiral Trench, in the process. None of the scans of the station had shown a shuttle leaving from Separatist controlled docks before the Republic had swept in and of the droids that hadn’t been obliterated beyond repair, only a scant few were anything more complex than a super battle droid. With a number of formerly determined and strategically placed droids reduced to nothing more than scrap, all evidence pointed to a victory that had been given to the Republic, while the brunt of the Separatist forces retreated, leaving only a token resistance behind.

“It was too easy, Masters,” Ahsoka told the Council later, after giving her report on both Tup’s… affliction, and the seeming quickness in which a six-month long campaign had ended. “We’ve fought them for months now only to be able to take Ringo Vinda barely a week after Tup killed Master Tiplar?” She crossed her arms. “I don’t like it.”

In the hologram, Master Windu and Master Yoda glanced at each other. “Agree we do that strange this is,” Master Yoda said. “Send someone to investigate this we will.”

“For now, bring your fleet back to Coruscant,” Master Windu said. “We’ve received word that Kamino is sending Nala Se here to present her findings to the Chancellor.”

Behind her, Rex’s armor creaked softly as he shifted.

“Her findings?” Ahsoka asked, her hands falling to her sides. “About Tup?” She pushed forwards. “What is it? What did they find?”

The two masters glanced at each other again… and neatly sidestepped her questions.

“Master Ti will present her report to the Council tomorrow,” Windo said, and Ahsoka’s stomach dropped to her toes. “We will know more then.”

“Patience you must have,” Master Yoda said, in a way that she supposed was meant to be soothing. “Know enough about this calamity we do not.”

Words wedged themselves in Ahsoka’s throat, pressing against her tongue until she had to clench her teeth to keep them contained. “I understand, Masters,” she said, trying to gentle her tone but unable to prevent the bite of frustration. “I will return to Coruscant.”

“May the Force be with you.”

She ended the call with a twitch of her fingers, blinking away the afterimages of the holograms from her vision. Her stomach twisted as she stared at the dimming holo-table, though whether it was from anger or weariness she couldn’t say.

The Council _knew_ something, something they weren’t able or weren’t willing to tell her. Even Rex, with his Force-null senses, could tell that something was missing. It might not have been the first time that the Council had kept information from her, but this time… The hot wash of anger curdled in her stomach and Ahsoka clenched her hands into fists before she could do more than make the screens in the conference room stutter with lines of static. 

It took precious seconds before she could reel her anger back and tuck it away underneath layers of training and discipline. She swayed a little once she had, as weariness rushed in to take anger’s place. But she pushed that aside too and turned back to meet the impassive blue-painted gaze of Rex’s helmet.

She sighed. “Tell Admiral Yularen to direct the fleet back to Coruscant. I’ll report on everything we need to repair or replace and I’ll want to look over the files for the reinforcement transfers. Several of the battalions are running at half strength, and Torrent Company got hit hard in the first few months of the campaign.”

Rex nodded. “Right away, sir.”

Her voice stopped him before he could leave the conference room. “Something’s wrong, Rex. The Council…” she sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’m missing something, I just know it. And it’s bigger than Tup. It’s even bigger than losing Anakin and Master Kenobi. And if I can’t figure it out…” She trailed off, her fingers twitching where she rested them on the holo-table’s surface.

 _I’m done,_ she wanted to say. _I’m done with watching my friends die. I’m done with sending them to their deaths._ _I wish Anakin were here. He’d know what to do._

But instead she dipped her head in a dismissal.

“See to it that I get those reports, Rex.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she was younger, long before there’d been any talk of war, Ahsoka and her creché-mates had gone on a trip to one of the Order’s auxiliary temples somewhere in the Mid Rim. She didn’t remember much about that trip, just vague impressions of pressing humidity, roaring waterfalls, and the ringing of the Temple chimes. The strongest memory she had was actually of the return to Coruscant, watching as the gleaming quilt of light loom large in the viewport until it crowded out the blackness of the surrounding void.

This deep into the war, the lights weren’t as bright anymore, and as the fleet descended to the shipyards, Ahsoka began to see all the patches where there were no lights at all; the patches where light had been consumed to feed the churning war that had swept up nearly the entire galaxy. For the longest and shortest moment of her life, she could feel the patches of herself that she’d consumed to fuel the war – the sound of her creché-mates’ laughter, the scents from the Temple gardens she wasn’t supposed to be in, practicing a saber form over and over and over just for the thrill of perfection – and she shivered at the chill left in their absence. Clairvoyance may never have been her Force gift, but she looked down at the fading lights of a once-shining city-planet and was struck by a sudden sense of _knowing_ that rattled her down to her bones.

What else would get devoured to fuel this ceaseless war?

She caught herself on the transparisteel of the observation deck before she fell over, the shock of almost falling helping to settle herself back into her skin. But the chill – and the knowing – remained, lingering in the cracks and corners of her that she couldn’t sense before.

Rex touched his hand to her elbow, just a faint brush of fingers, and she started at the touch, her head jerking around to stare at him. His face was impassive, professional as always, but she could see unspoken questions crowding behind his eyes and felt his silent concern reaching for her in the Force.

She nodded at him in response, too rattled to give a verbal reassurance, and pushed away from the transparisteel, settling herself back into the roles of General and Jedi Knight that everyone expected to see.

When the fleet landed, the 501st disembarked in a flurry of activity. Wounded clones were whisked away to the med-center, while the various regiments streamed towards shuttles that would deposit them at the appropriate barracks. One of the shuttles – set just off to the side – waited for her, and after a final, short conversation with Admiral Yularen about the various resupplies that would need to be coordinated, Ahsoka stepped into the shuttle and let it take her to the Jedi Temple.

The Council was in session when she went to receive her next orders in person (or at least, that’s what the Temple Guards said when they politely barred her from the Council Chambers), and she was still too jittery to easily join the group of junior Knights sparring in the largest training room. Meditation didn’t appeal much either, though training dictated that she quiet her mind when she was feeling this wound up, but the flashing notification light on the small HoloNet terminal in her room quickly put an end to that line of thinking and Ahsoka began to scroll through her unread messages with no small amount of relief.

The first few messages were of no importance, and she quickly skimmed through them before shunting them off into their respective folders. But the sight of the fourth message, written in a complex and unique code, sent a thrill down her spine until she managed to decode it.

“Searched further,” it said. “Still no sign.”

Ahsoka was still too new of a Knight to have gained many contacts throughout the galaxy, despite the number of places she’d been too during the course of the war. After Anakin – and later Master Kenobi – had vanished, in desperation she’d reached out to the few she knew could hold their tongues and still potentially get her viable pieces of information, only to have every response come back negative. Then, only a week after she’d been caught in the explosions at GAR High Command, she’d run into an unusually solemn Quinlan Vos just outside her quarters. (She knew him by reputation, of course, everyone did, but she hadn’t remembered that he and Master Kenobi were friends until he was standing right in front of her.) He’d greeted her, asked after her recovery from Barriss’ attacks, and had left, inexplicably fast, when a pair of Twi’lek Knights had stepped into the far end of the hallway. She’d entered her quarters later to find a communications device (of the kind that could only receive text) and a piece of flimsi with a hastily scrawled address on it (and an omelet recommendation?) shoved under her pallet.

The address had ended up being a seedy, run-down diner on the edge of the industrial section of Coruscant that she hadn’t gone into. But when she’d come back from her next assignment, an encrypted report had been waiting on her little terminal, and whoever sent it knew about her search for Anakin and Master Kenobi.

There was scant information to be had about their disappearances that Ahsoka didn't know already. But the Council wasn’t looking anymore, had written them off as dead, and even a one-line report with no new information was better than never looking at all.

She sighed and thumbed the power switch for the terminal, settling into a meditative stance as the screen went black. Still rattled from the _something_ she’d felt earlier, her mind refused to quiet, flitting between the inspections she had to make for the new transfers to the 501st and a slow, nagging worry over Tup and Fives on Kamino. If a Kaminoan scientist was coming _here_ along with Master Ti, then there was definitely something going on that no one was telling–

Her door chimed.

Rex stood on the other side, helmet under his arm, and his face set in stern lines. “General…” he began. 

Ahsoka’s stomach twisted. “Is it Anakin?”

Rex blinked, momentarily thrown from whatever it was he’d been saying. “No sir,” he continued. “It’s Fives.”

She stared at him. “Fives? He’s here?”

Rex nodded. “They brought him back from Kamino. He was with the Chancellor when he…” his hands clenched and a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Fives attacked the Chancellor. There’s an order out for his capture.”

The Force shivered at his words, though Ahsoka was too stunned to try and find out why.

“They’re sure it’s Fives?” she asked.

Rex pulled out a holo-projector and turned it on. A clone’s face rotated between them, every plane and angle as familiar as her own. His head was shaved and a bacta patch placed off-center and Ahsoka’s stomach twisted further when Fives’ distinctive tattoo rotated into view, the stylized “5” the only link back to the ARC Trooper that left Ringo Vinda.

“What happened to him?”

“Doesn’t say. The data’s been erased.”

She looked up sharply. “Erased?”

His mouth twisted. “It’s marked classified. But I called in a favor. There’s nothing there. Not even security tapes of Fives’ ‘attack’ on the Chancellor.”

“You don’t think he did it?”

“I don’t know. After Tup…” Rex shook his head.

Ahsoka paced, hating for the first time in her life the small confines of her room. “Fives wouldn’t do this, Rex. He wouldn’t just go crazy.”

But Tup did.

She met Rex’s solemn gaze, her worry and frustration echoed in his eyes, and they both heard what the other didn’t say.

“Whatever the reason,” he said. “We need to know why he did this. We need more information. This feels too much like…” he trailed off, but the memory of Umbara resonated between them.

Ahsoka hadn’t been on the ground during the Umbara campaign. She’d been leading squads of fighters against the Separatist blockade. But she’d seen the aftermath of what Pong Krell had done to the 501st and the 212th and she’d felt Anakin’s overwhelming anger and grief in the Force before he’d locked everything behind a mental wall and went to work on his fighter with Artoo for hours.

She’d been the one to count the armor tally markers.

“Pull together the 501st,” she said, ignoring the rumbles of the Force around her. “Everyone who wants to help.”

Rex stared at her, for once utterly unreadable. But whatever he saw seemed to reassure him and he nodded, settling his helmet on his head and moving towards the door.

“Rex!” she called, and he glanced back. “Volunteers only.”

He threw a quick salute and vanished out the open door.

Ahsoka glanced down at the holo-projector she held in her hands, Fives’ altered head still floating forlornly above her palms. The Force had fallen silent, like the breath before a sniper shot or the stillness before an ambush by mortar fire, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she stood far too close to an edge, with no idea if the other side was just a step down or a plummeting free-fall.

Every teaching she’d ever learned clamored in her head, pushing at her to turn away, to retract into the cool serenity that was the epitome of the Jedi way.

To leave her brothers behind.

She tightened her grip on the holo-projector as anger flashed through her, there and gone again. On its heels came the cool certainty of a decision made. And though perhaps it was one made in anger and the hot flush of irrational emotion, but that didn’t mean it was a bad decision.

She slipped the holo-projector into her belt-pouches and resettled her sabers on her hips, feeling more grounded than she’d had in months.

She was done with leaving people behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightfall found Ahsoka and Rex in a near-empty storage hangar tucked away on the edges of the Republic Military Complex. Clones came by in twos and threes, some of them dressed in the gray uniform worn when outside the complex proper, while others were dressed in the slim, black bodysuit that fit under their armor. Eventually the hangar was nearly full to bursting, with clones sitting or standing on every available surface. They perched on top of half-dismantled gunships and climbed stacks of crates that reached almost to the ceiling. Some even found a way to sit on the catwalks above, their legs dangling into open air, and yet still more shuffled in, squeezing themselves into any place they could until nearly every member of the 501st – save the bedridden wounded – was there, waiting for their General to speak.

Ahsoka had eaten in clone mess halls before, back when she was still a padawan, and the noise level of rambunctious clones in a closed space was nearly deafening until one got used to it. In contrast, the hangar was deathly silent, with only the faint shifting of cloth and a few quiet coughs and murmurs to show that the big space was occupied at all. Distantly, she heard a door slide closed and saw Rex nod to her out of the corner of her eye.

Gritting her teeth against the swooping feeling in her stomach, she cleared her throat and stepped forward.

“I know most of you heard about what happened on Ringo Vinda,” she said, “even if it was only through rumors. I don’t know what was passed around, but I’m going to set the record straight.” She swallowed. “Master Tiplar was killed by one of our own. His name was Tup.”

A few men shifted uneasily, but didn’t speak, though Ahsoka could feel the tension in the room ratchet upwards.

“Whatever prompted Tup to shoot Master Tiplar…” she sighed. “It wasn’t his fault. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I do know that Tup wasn’t thinking straight. So,” she nodded at Kix who was sitting nearby on a crate, “at the advice of a medic, I sent Tup with ARC Lieutenant Fives back to Kamino. As of this morning, Fives has returned from Kamino and has attempted to give a report of his findings to the Chancellor himself.”

Her voice faltered under the weight of her emotions, as tangible then as they’d been at the Temple. But she shoved them back with gritted teeth, save for a faint bite of anger in her voice. 

“Fives has been accused of attempting to assassinate Chancellor Palpatine. As it stands, the Coruscant Guard has been given orders to bring him in by any means necessary.” She looked at the too-still faces around her, her senses shivering at the slow rising tide of anger in the Force. “We know Fives. He was part of the 501st before his ARC Trooper training and he returned to us after that training was complete. Even on his worst day, I would not believe him capable of assassinating the Chancellor.”

She sighed. “Until two hours ago, I didn’t know about this.”

There were murmurs at that, a spattering echo of mutterings that rippled throughout the hangar.

When they died out, she continued, “It was Commander Rex who came to me about this, not the GAR and not the Council. But he also told me something else, something that makes me suspect that there’s something bigger going down than just one rogue clone.”

The Force was humming against her senses, the press of so many emotions threatening to overwhelm the fragile equilibrium she’d managed to regain on the short flight from the Temple to the hangar. She knew she ought to step back, to send them on the search for Fives while she withdrew, connected but separate. But… she hesitated, carefully testing the Force again. Anger was certainly prevalent, burning like a signal flare in the hearts of every man in the hangar. But there were other emotions also. Determination, for one, as well as fear, sorrow, and… pride?

As she looked deeper, more and more emotions revealed themselves, bombarding her senses. She’d relied on clones before, to be a steady anchor when her own emotions had flown too close to the surface for comfort, but this was… overwhelming, dizzying, staggering almost to the point of madness, and yet…

She could feel Rex beside her, his emotions running every bit as deep and strong as his brothers. In front of him was Jesse, Kix, Two-fer, Jax, Saber, Torc… She could feel _all_ of them, she realized, every single clone in the hangar and it _should_ be overwhelming, it was when she stopped to think about it–

 _No,_ she inhaled. _Feel, don’t think._

_Trust your instincts._

She opened her mind, letting the emotions flow through her like a river, a tide, a sea. She was anger. She was fear, and sorrow and rage and loss. She was determination and pride and joy and hope. She was a Padawan without a master, a Knight adrift in a war she hadn’t started, a girl wandering without an anchor…

_No, I am Ahsoka Tano._

The press of emotion gradually receded, leaving her raw and tired, but calm. Around her, clones were still muttering darkly, their anger flashing bright and fierce in the Force, though it wasn’t as daunting as before. Instead it was almost soothing, a sense of connection that she hadn’t felt since her padawan bond had gone dark with Anakin’s disappearance.

That connection quieted the fears lurking at the back of her mind and bolstered her resolve as she raised her voice to be heard over the general hubbub.

“Fives needs to be found,” she declared. “I don’t believe that he tried to kill the Chancellor, so we need to find him before anyone else does, and maybe then we can get to the bottom of this.”

“This isn’t a mission,” she said, her voice solemn,” and it isn’t sanctioned, so I can’t order you to do any of this. If anyone one wants to stay out of this, then they are welcome to leave, no questions asked and no resentments held.”

No one moved.

After a minute, a very fierce sort of satisfaction began to well up within the Force.

Ahsoka let it wash through her and found herself grinning ferally within the low light of the hangar. “Alright then,” she said.” Let’s go find him.”

It was eerie the way the 501st filed out of the hangar. On a normal campaign, there’d usually be a lot more yelling as different squads and battalions began to bleed off their early adrenaline response with laughter and yelling and more than a little friendly machismo. Tonight though, the men were quiet and solemn as they left the way they came in: in twos and threes headed to wherever a single clone in trouble might go to hide.

Soon it was just her, Rex, and a small support staff of the four regiment commanders, as well as a handful of battalion captains. They were lounging around like they were on leave, but judging by the number of active signals her com was picking up as well as the number of clones who were wearing their helmets, she figures that most of them were coordinating their brothers the way they would in the field.

Her boys had a well-deserved reputation, built through constant battles at the side of both her master and her, so Ahsoka settled herself on a crate that was close to the middle of the group of men so she could be reached whenever they needed her and yet was sufficiently removed enough that she wouldn’t get in their way.

As the clones bustled around her, she sank into meditation with uncharacteristic ease, the usual clouds of emotions and thoughts barely even registering. Instead, the Force came easily to her reach, and Ahsoka let herself fall into the world around her.

A number of men had clustered around a stack of crates serving as a makeshift ops table, the muffled whispers a sign that they were using their helmet tight beam to coordinate their brothers in the sprawling mess of bars and dance clubs that was the Entertainment district. Now and again she felt vague stirrings of excitement, frustration, and at one point, uneasiness, but nothing showed strongly enough to catch her attention for long.

Rex, of course, was leading the operation, while Jax and Torc, inseparable as usual, were parsing out his commands to the various squads under their command. Saber was there also, a stern figure still clad in full armor, standing off to the side and relaying the information from Torrent Company back to Rex.

Two-fer and two other pilots, One-Shot and Slip, had closed ranks around Ahsoka, settling into a classic escort pattern that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Fleet exercise manual. So when they shifted slightly, their surprise echoing back into the minds of the rest of their brothers, Ahsoka opened her eyes, her face tilting upward to meet the gaze of a grim-faced Commander Cody.

She hadn’t seen the Commander since before Master Kenobi had gone missing, and she was struck by how much the past several months had aged him.

“Commander Cody. It’s good to see you,” she said.

He saluted, and waited until Ahsoka returned the salute before speaking. “General, I heard about Fives. I have some of my boys, and a few others, looking for him.”

Ahsoka blinked and straightened from her half-slouch. “How many?”

“Most of what’s left of the 212th and a few commandos who owe Fives a favor.”

She smiled. “It’s good to have you here, Commander.” She nodded at the group of men behind her. “Rex is coordinating our efforts. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear you’ve joined us.”

With Cody’s arrival the atmosphere of their little group shifted from frustrated determination to an almost grim kind of triumph. The men that he’d brought with him moved the number of clones searching for their wayward brother up to 14,000, nearly the size of two full Legions. Even a city the size of a planet wouldn’t be able to hide anything from that number of determined clones for long.

Something chimed in the Force, and a moment later Rex appeared at her elbow, holding a holo-projector with the flickering blue figure of Master Yoda. He didn’t often look his nearly nine hundred years of age, but today something lingered about the stoop of his shoulders and in the grip he had on his gimer stick, as if he were pressed down under an unbearable weight.

“Not in the Temple you are, Knight Tano,” he said gently, and Ahsoka suppressed a faint surge of irritation.

“Commander Rex had some matters he needed to bring to my attention,” she replied. “I thought it best to get them done as soon as possible.”

Yoda stared at her, frowning slightly as if to catch her in her lie, but Ahsoka kept her face still and her mind calm and wondered when it had become so easy to lie to the head of the Jedi Order.

“Remember sometimes that rest you must.”

She nodded. “I understand Master, but these things just couldn’t wait.”

He stared at her for a minute longer, then sighed. “Bad news I’m afraid I have. Called, a manhunt has been, for one of your troopers, ARC 5555.”

Ahsoka carefully kept her mind very calm indeed and wondered if the Council had ever planned not to tell her at all.

“Attacked the Chancellor he has,” Yoda continued, “Though escaped he did.”

“I see,” Ahsoka said. “With all due respect, Master, why wasn’t I informed of this earlier? ARC Trooper Fives is my responsibility. I should be the one to find him.”

“And when find him you do, respond without bias will you?”

Ahsoka bit her tongue. “I should still have been given the choice, Master. Fives is my–”

“Your compassion, to be commended, it is. But too attached have you grown. Best it would be, to allow others to complete this task.” Yoda stared at her with a knowing expression that grated down her spine like ice. “Informed you will be of the outcome, but participate in this you should not.”

“I… understand, Master,” Ahsoka said, hiding her frustration behind as polite a bow as she could manage. Anakin would never have done this to her, she knew, nor would Master Obi-wan. “I will return to the Temple when I have finished here.”

“Of course, orders we have, for your next assignment.”

She smiled tightly and cut the call before Yoda could say the traditional farewell. Around her the clones were studiously focused on their individual tasks, though a faint buzz of anger was coming from those who had been close enough to hear her call.

Rex’s face was unreadable, and his emotions were buried too deep for the Force to reveal them with just a cursory glance. Carefully, Ahsoka unfolded her legs and slid off the edge of the crate, her movement tight and controlled.

“Nothing changes,” she told him, her own anger and frustration beginning to burn in her gut. “Keep looking for Fives. I’ll deal with the Council.”

Rex nodded and placed the holoprojector in its usual place on his belt while Ahsoka paced. “Is it true?” he asked after she made several circuits around the box. “Are you too… attached? I know it can be a problem.”

Ahsoka scoffed. “So what if I am? Even if I wasn’t, Fives still falls under my responsibility. I should be the one sent after him.” She stopped. “Except he’s also my friend. And I just _know_ there’s more to it than him going crazy and attacking the Chancellor. So I don’t just need to find him, I _want_ to find him. There’s no guarantee that Commander Fox will take him alive. If we don’t find him… then we might never know what happened to Tup and I, for one, am tired of not knowing. So yeah, I’m attached.”

Rex grinned, a flash of a smile, there and gone. “I’m not the one who has a problem with it, kid. I just wanted to know where you stand.”

She blinked at the familiar nickname, and stared cautiously up at Rex. “You don’t?”

He shrugged. “No offense to your Order, General, but you can’t win a war without some kind of attachment. It’s better to have it towards the people you’re fighting with than anything else.”

“...Oh.”

He clapped a hand to her shoulder and walked back to the ops crates, leaving Ahsoka standing amidst the rapidly cooling embers of her failed anger. It wasn’t the first time she’d been angry at the Council, or even at Master Yoda. But as she once again perched on the crates to resume her meditation, she realized that it wasn’t anger that she was feeling the most of, though it was certainly prevalent, it was disappointment.

The Jedi Order was supposed to help people, especially the people who were directly dependant on it. Instead they just… let them go?

Ahsoka sighed and resituated herself before reaching for the calm that had come so easily earlier. Anger wouldn’t help now, she reminded herself. It would just cloud her judgment. Fives needed her help, he needed all their help. Fuming about the Council’s decisions wasn’t conducive to doing that.

 _If only you could see me now, Skyguy,_ she thought wryly. _You always told me to be less impulsive. But I think this time you would agree with me on this._

Rex’s comlink chimed, another alert among many, but Ahsoka could feel the shift of his attention in the Force, from attentive listening to focused planning. The men around him shifted as well when the com call was transferred onto all channels. Her own comlink chirped in response and she hurriedly swiped her fingers over the controls, tuning in just in time to hear Kix’s impassioned voice.

“–found me in 79’s, in the ‘freshers. He wanted to talk to General Tano, but he wouldn’t listen when I told him I could help. Something’s wrong, Commander. It’s like he was drugged or something. And he had a bacta patch on his head, one of the deep tissue ones. The Kaminoans must have done something.”

“Did he tell you where he was going?” Rex asked.

“Yeah. He gave coordinates,” Kix replied. “Jesse and I are following now. But he’s spooked by something and he didn’t want any of the rest of the 501st to meet him. Just you and General Tano.”

“Understood. You and Jesse keep back. Don’t let him know you’re following. The General and I will be there soon.” 

Ahsoka straightened. “They found him?”

Rex nodded. “He’s headed to the warehouse district now.” 

“Then we’ll get him, whatever it takes.”

“With the way Fives is acting…” He frowned. “We’ll need to move carefully. No telling what he might do now.”

“You can’t think…”

Rex met her eyes solemnly. “I’d rather not take any chances, General. We didn’t expect Tup to murder General Tiplar. I’d rather Fives didn’t try to murder you.”

Ahsoka swallowed, but said nothing.

There wasn’t really much to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	7. Nothing is as it was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To hide from the Empire, Anakin takes his children and his former Padawan to meet the reclusive Jedi Master living on the Outer Rim planet of DAGOBAH.
> 
> But the information he finds there may take him along paths he does not expect.

_Dagobah, Outer Rim Territory; 3 years after the Battle of Yavin_

The planet filled the viewport of the _Stormfist_ ’s cockpit like a glittering emerald, and even from orbit, Anakin could feel the Force rising up from the planet below, pressing into his bones. He’d never felt anything like it.

Something brushed against the edge of his awareness, darting back when he turned his focus on it, only to come forward again when his attention wandered.

“Dagobah,” Luke said, stepping into the cockpit. Anakin started, pulled from his almost-meditation and Luke winced in apology.

“Ahsoka says that it’s a nexus in the Force,” Luke continued. “Or rather...it has one. But the entire planet has always felt… alive in a way that other places don’t.”

Anakin glanced back at the planet with a new awareness, his mind brushing over it in the Force. “It’s a good place to hide,” he said. “With the planet this strong in the Force, it’ll be impossible for Draigh to find us here.”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, Dagobah’s pretty good for that. One of the old Jedi Masters from the Republic came here after the Empire rose to power. He’s who we’re going to see.”

“Who is–” Anakin started, trailing off as Ahsoka stepped into the room.

“Shuttle’s ready,” she said. “Artoo and Leia are staying up here to run the ship. You ready?”

“Ready for what?” Anakin asked, following Ahsoka out of the cockpit. “Who are we meeting?”

Ahsoka bit her lip. “He’s… one of the old masters. But he’s not… Let’s just say he isn’t like he used to be.”

“ _Who_ isn’t?” he asked again.

She shook her head, lekku swaying. “It’s… easier if I just show you. You won’t believe me otherwise.” 

“Easier…? Ahsoka–”

The look in her eyes cut him off, old sorrow mingling with resignation and regret to send a spike of cold foreboding down his spine. But he followed her to the shuttle instead of pushing, rifling through his memories to try and determine who it was that could have survived to cause Ahsoka this much pain.

The shuttle ride was over before he noticed, with Luke settling the shuttle down in a small clearing that had barely been visible through the planet’s jungle canopy. On the surface, the Force was even stronger, flowing in eddies and swirls around the three of them until Anakin’s senses were a riot of different sensations and impressions from the surrounding landscape.

There was something else out there as well. It felt like an echo, though Anakin couldn’t determine where it had come from originally. Whatever it was, it was in the echo’s direction that Ahsoka started walking, her steps sure and focused.

Anakin, caught for a moment in the ebb and flow of the Force, scrambled to keep up as he picked his way through soggy patches of mud and weeds and leaped over murky pools. Animals skittered away in the undergrowth as he followed his erstwhile padawan on some unseen path.

“So what happened to this guy to make you so sad?” he asked, stepping over a fallen log.

Ahsoka hesitated. “...he’s not who he used to be.”

“You said that. What does that even mean?”

“I mean that the end of the war… broke him, almost. He fought the Emperor...and he lost. So he came here.”

“To do what?”

Ahsoka stopped so suddenly that Anakin nearly slammed into her lekku, twisting away only at the last second and staggering into a tree. She gave him an apologetic grimace, but motioned towards a low-set structure, built from cheap clay like the slave huts on Tatooine and nestled deep into the muck of the swamp. The size of the structure ruled out most of the old Jedi Masters that Anakin knew about, leaving only…

“Do? Do? What should I do, you ask, hmm? Meditate more, clearly, if ghosts I am seeing.”

Anakin stiffened as the voice, made tremulous by age and long isolation, rose upward from the swamp around him. It seemed to come from every direction at once, echoing in his ears and in the Force, before resolving itself in a small, robed figure, green skin dulled by a thin film of mud, that sat on a nearby stump, clutching a familiar gimer stick in his gnarled hands.

Anakin stared at the figure, unwilling at first to equate him with the larger-than-life Grand Master of his childhood. But the Force signatures were the same, even if this Yoda’s was slightly more tarnished than the one he remembered.

“It’s me, Master Yoda,” he said. “Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hmph,” came the reply. “Lost Skywalker was. So sure you’ve been found are you?” Suddenly at Anakin’s feet, Yoda gave him a hard jab with his gimer stick. 

Anakin fought not to jump back, his shins smarting. “Of course I’m–” He huffed, trying to suppress the usual annoyance that rose up in him whenever Master Yoda was unhelpfully cryptic. _Glad to see_ that _hasn’t changed,_ he thought.

He knelt, trying not to wince at the muck that seeped into his pants. “We’re here to find Obi-wan, Master Yoda. Will you help us?”

Yoda stared him down, his face unreadable. “Gone, Master Kenobi is,” he said flatly. “Accept this you must.”

“Gone– No! He’s not gone. Master, how could you say that?”

“Returned to the Force he has,” Yoda insisted, “lost in search of you.”

“We have reason to believe that the Empire has him,” Ahsoka interjected, sparing an apologetic glance at Anakin. “Will you help us find him?”

Yoda started hobbling back to his hut, leaning heavily on the gimer stick with every step. “Help you I cannot.”

“Cannot?” Anakin asked, anger beginning to suffuse his voice. “Or will not?”

“Mindful you must be, young Skywalker,” Yoda huffed as he hobbled forward, “that put too much stock on attachments you do.”

“Attachments?” Anakin choked out. “Obi-wan could be hurt or...or dead, and you’re lecturing me on _attachments?_ ” Anger like he hadn’t felt since Tatooine swelled and pushed at his control, setting the Force around him churning. Ahsoka, too, had stiffened at Yoda’s words, her frown deepening through she stayed silent.

Yoda turned, his mouth pressed into a thin, tight line. “Knight you are, yet mindful of your emotions you are not. Sad though it is, passed into the Force Obi-wan has. Reach him you cannot.”

Anakin felt cold. “Is that why the Jedi never looked for me?” he asked. “Is that why I stayed in a stasis pod for over 23 years? Is that why I never got to know I had _children?!_ ”

Yoda looked weary. “Other concerns did we have. The war. The Republic we needed to defend.” He straightened and pointed his gimer stick at Anakin in remonstration. “Put aside your attachments, you must, young Skywalker. Remember your training!”

Anakin was frozen solid with breathless rage, his mind staggered by the sheer _betrayal_ of it all. They’d forgotten about him. The Jedi had _willfully_ forgotten about him. They had left him and Obi-wan to _die_ and now they didn’t even care that–

Ahsoka’s concerned face flickered at the dimmed edges of his vision, as transient as a lantern-fly in Naboo’s grasslands, but he barely noticed, too busy staring in horror at Yoda’s calm and determined face.

“You forgot about me,” he said in a small voice, unable to force any volume past the knot in his throat. “You just… you forgot about me.”

Yoda sighed. “Pay attention to the greater good, a Jedi must. Extend all our resources to save one person against thousands, we could not. The Jedi way, that is.”

The dam broke. 

“If that’s the _Jedi Way_ ,” Anakin snarled, his rage spilling from his gut and souring his words. “Then I want _no part of it.”_ He paced three steps before tree roots and mud forced him back.

Yoda watched him cautiously, unreadable in the Force, though his gnarled old hands were clutched around his gimer stick.

“I will not abandon Obi-wan just because it’s _expedient_ ,” Anakin spat, planting his feet in the muck and glaring at Yoda. Hurt and anger alike simmered within him, but he found he couldn’t let them go. He’d given _everything_ to the Jedi and they’d… He straightened, abruptly still, and stared Yoda dead in the eyes. 

“You failed, Master,” he told him, ignoring Ahsoka’s gasp behind him. “You failed me, you failed Obi-wan, and then you failed the Republic. So if you don’t want to help, that’s fine. You’re only doing what you’re best at.” 

He left Yoda there and stomped back to the shuttle, unable to even look at Ahsoka as he passed. Betrayal seethed in his veins until he was nearly shaking with it, and he itched to do _something_ , anything to make the feeling go away. But though he slashed at any unfortunate plant in his path, he still felt the same sick feeling of loss.

Luke glanced up when Anakin reached the clearing, frowning when the wave of Anakin’s emotions washed over him. “Nothing?” he asked.

Anakin bit his lip on his snapped retort, gritting his teeth against the anger. Luke hadn’t done anything, he didn’t deserve...With a snarl, Anakin sent a boulder squelching from the mud and thumping off into the undergrowth. “He won’t help. Says Obi-wan is dead and we have to let him go because it’s the Jedi way. But he’s _not._ I can _feel it._ ”

Luke sighed. “I was afraid that would happen.”

Anakin spun around. “You were?”

Luke put down the tech he was working on and grimaced. “Yoda is… well… Mom says that he’s a traditionalist, and that losing the Jedi Order didn’t help to make him _not_ a traditionalist. It just made him afraid of losing anything more than what he already had.

“Ahsoka, when she first brought Leia and I here, she told me that he was the greatest Jedi that ever lived, but that I should always take his advice–or any advice really–with a grain of salt; that advice was only ever meant to be a tool to prepare you for something, not a solution to your problems.” He laughed. “Actually, Leia had about the same reaction you did.” He glanced at Anakin, his grin hesitant. “She doesn’t like him much either.”

“She… doesn’t.”

Luke shook his head. “First time she ever met him, Ahsoka took her to see him and left me at the shuttle. Leia came back 10 minutes later stomping mad and has refused to see him since.” He nodded at the sky. “It’s one of the reasons she’s up in orbit with Artoo.”

Anakin choked on a laugh, his anger cracking and flaking away like so much dried mud. “Of course she doesn’t like him.”

Luke grinned. “I can’t count the number of times I listened to Leia complain about Yoda when we were younger. She really didn’t agree with what he tried to teach us.”

“Did you?” Anakin asked, making his way through the mud to sit on the loading ramp beside Luke.

Luke shrugged. “Yes and no. I don’t agree with a lot of what he said about ‘no attachments’ because…” he frowned. “Well… it just doesn’t work that way. Maybe for him, but if I or Leia or Ahsoka got rid of our attachments then we wouldn’t be fighting the Empire. A lot of people would die. But that’s just my opinion,” he said, glancing away.

“No, it’s…” Anakin shook his head. “It’s fine. I’m just… I’m just surprised to hear some of my own arguments coming back at me. Yoda never liked them.”

“I only listen to _some_ of the things he says,” Luke grinned. “Not all of them. He knows a lot about the Force, but not a lot about people, I’ve noticed.”

They both turned as Ahsoka came into the clearing, her face solemn. She shook her head at their questioning glances. 

“He still won’t help,” Anakin said. 

She sighed. “No. He won’t. Though it didn’t help when you yelled at him.”

He winced. “Ahsoka... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have–”

She waved a hand dismissively. “If I didn’t agree with you, Skyguy, then I wouldn’t have left the Order over it.”

“You left the Order?” he asked, horror creeping into his throat.

“They felt expediency was more important than saving lives,” Ahsoka replied, a long-standing grief in her voice. “I disagreed, so I left.” Her shoulders slumped. “It was the hardest decision I ever made. But I never doubt that it was the right one.” She sighed. “I’d just hoped that Yoda had...changed somehow, or regretted his choices…. I guess not.”

“What now?” Anakin asked.

“We do what we can with Alliance intel,” she replied, pulling her shoulders back until she stood at her full height. “Whatever we do, we’re not leaving Obi-wan.”

Luke looked pensive. “Leia might have something. She handles all the intel we get on the Empire’s actions towards Force users.” He frowned. “It’s a long shot though. We barely had enough intel to find you, D– Anakin.”

“If it’s all we have,” Ahsoka said. “Then we’ll have to take it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shuttle ride back to the cruiser was short and quiet, with Luke and Ahsoka both focused on other things. Anakin found himself breathing easier the further out from the planet they got, as if the Force presence there was trying to compress him into a mold that he no longer fit. Yoda’s presence, too, was slipping away with every kilometer they traveled, vanishing into the Force-sense that blanketed the planet.

Leia was unsurprised when they returned empty-handed, though Anakin could tell that she’d been trained very well at keeping her opinions off her face. _Probably Padmé and Senator Organa_ , he thought, pushing away the twinge of sadness and anger at Senator Organa’s name. 

Still, she left with Luke to search through intel with no complaint, while Ahsoka went to check in with the Rebellion’s leadership and Anakin was left to wander the corridors.

The _Stormfist_ was a CR90 Corvette, a model that Anakin remembered was used primarily for diplomats in the Clone Wars, and while it could be handled by a few talented pilots and an astromech, it felt strangely empty without the requisite number of technicians and other crew members on board. With only a few wrong turns, he found his way to an observation deck; the viewport’s shutters left open to the vastness of space. It was a sight he’d seen often in the Clone Wars, and at some points even welcomed – when the horror of war had gotten to be too much. But now…

“It’s too big, isn’t it?”

Anakin turned to see Leia, standing stiffly by the door. “Luke told me who you were,” she said, then stopped, her mouth twisting.

He winced. “Ah yeah… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I… didn’t know.” 

She stared at him, pensive, her earlier hesitance retreating slightly. “...No, you wouldn’t.” She sighed. “We’re not supposed to tell people, when they ask about Mom, I mean.” She stepped up beside him. “Technically Padmé Amidala died when the Empire rose. She even has an Imperial holiday.”

“She does?” 

Leia’s smile was brittle. “Yes, she does. Padmé Amidala, the ‘Martyr of the Republic,’ cut down by Jedi in her peaceful retirement. They cling to that farce like it was made of gold while the Empire cuts down entire worlds and calls them ‘collateral damage’.”

A ringing silence fell after her words died out, and the room shivered, first with old rage and then a fierce, keening grief. Anakin hesitated with a response. Nothing he said would make it any easier for her to bear.

“I hated you at first, you know,” she said idly, as if she were simply describing the view. “You _liked_ Palpatine back when you knew him. You thought he was your friend. And then I found out that you were my _father,_ and I wondered how Mom could ever have married someone like you.”

Anakin flinched.

“Luke says that you couldn’t have known what that monster would do,” she said, regarding him like a bug pinned on a table. “That you were deceived like the rest of the Republic, like the rest of the Jedi when they let him take so much power and not do anything.” She turned back to the viewport. “I’m less inclined to believe that.”

For a long moment, all Anakin could do was gape at her, retorts flying to his lips and then just as quickly dying. There wasn’t anything he _could_ say, he realized; no reason he could give that would excuse being friends with a _Sith Lord_ , even if he hadn’t known. 

“...did Padmé ever tell you what happened to my mother?” he asked after a few minutes had passed in cold silence. 

From her start of surprise, it was obvious she hadn’t expected him to speak. “No, she hasn’t,” she said.

He stared out the viewport. “I lived on Tatooine when I was younger, a slave of the Hutts. When I was nine, a Jedi, Master Qui-Gon, found me and took me away to Coruscant, to become a Jedi. But… he left my mother behind. At the time, he said it was because he wasn’t able to take both of us, that Watto...my _owner_ ,” he spat, “wouldn’t let both of us go. Later it was because attachment wasn’t the Jedi way. So everyone, even Master Yoda, told me I had to let her go.”

Even now, the grief and anger rose in him at the thought of what had happened on that cold, Tatooine night. “And because I wanted so badly to be a Jedi...I listened to them. I willfully forgot about my mother.”

He didn’t dare look at Leia, didn’t want to see what kind of emotions she’d show on her face. It was bad enough that he could feel the edges of those emotions in the Force. But she deserved to hear the story, so he continued.

“I forgot about her for ten years, until I was put on assignment protecting the Senator of Naboo.” He smiled. “It was for your mother. I was only a Padawan at the time and I was so nervous at seeing her again.” He laughed. “And then the Council made me her _bodyguard_. It was...more than I could have hoped for.”

His face fell, the pit in his stomach opening wider. “But I started having dreams, no, _nightmares_ about my mother in trouble, in _pain_. But I had a duty. I had to stay and protect Padmé, no matter the cost.

“But your mother, she wouldn’t have it. She insisted we go back to Tatooine to find her, to _save_ her if necessary. When we got there… I found out my mother had been freed by a moisture farmer. She’d gotten _married._ But…” He choked on the words. “But when I found where she’d gone, it was too late. She’d been taken by Tusken raiders in the early morning a week before I’d gotten there.”

Leia inhaled sharply, her shock and horror ringing in the Force like a struck bell.

Anakin’s smile was a jagged gash on his face, bereft of joy. “I see you know them. Then you know what they did to her. When I finally got to her she...died...in my arms. I couldn’t… I wasn’t... _I wasn’t fast enough_.” 

A nearby chair groaned, the metal slowly crumpling in on itself as the Force reacted to his anger.

He inhaled, stilling his thoughts and his emotions on the exhale until the room no longer vibrated with his rage.

“I killed them,” he said, the old chill radiating from his bones. “For the crime of killing my mother I slaughtered them like animals. I was _so angry..._ ” He huffed a laugh, though it was as mirthless as a pile of bones. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I understand your anger. You come by it honestly. And if you can’t…” his breath shuddered. “If you can’t ever forgive me, then I understand that too.”

Leia was silent, her emotions shoved behind mental shields so thick that Anakin could almost hear the clang of them closing around her mind in the Force. She stared out the viewport, her brown eyes reflecting the stars, and her face so still that it seemed a single tap on her countenance could shatter it.

There were tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, Anakin realized, though he didn’t call attention to them. But once he saw the tears, he could feel a bone-deep grief slowly swelling around him, pushing against (and through) Leia’s shields until the very room wept.

The Force stretched and shivered around them, bending under the will of two strong Force-wielders. Distantly, Anakin could feel Ahsoka reaching towards him, tapping against their mangled training bond. He sent reassurances back to her, though he wasn’t sure what got through.

Leia turned to meet his gaze. “You don’t follow him,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

“No,” he replied.

Her voice shook. “You don’t agree with anything he’s done.”

He stepped forward until he was within arm’s reach, though he didn’t try to touch her. “I don’t and I never will. I may be a bad Jedi, but I’m not a Sith and I never will be.”

He wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised when Leia leaned in to hug him, him or her, but he carefully wrapped his arms around his daughter anyways and let her grief sing through him.

The door to the observation deck hummed open and Leia pulled out of Anakin’s arms, setting her jacket straight with a few quick tugs and very determinedly not looking in his direction. Anakin blinked at her for a second, but turned to face Luke when his son got close enough.

“Is everything okay?” Luke asked, glancing between Anakin and Leia.

“Everything’s fine,” Anakin replied, as Leia’s shoulders relaxed in the corner of his eye.

Luke gaze lingered on his sister, but he didn’t push. “Well, Ahsoka thinks she might have something. She found it in an intel report.”

“Then lead the way,” Anakin said, gesturing at the door. He fell in behind and just to the right of Luke, feeling more than hearing Leia fall in at Luke’s left. 

Ahsoka was bending over the holo-table in the center of the bridge, frowning at the projection of a small planet sandwiched between two gas giants. Leia froze when she saw it, her shock ringing throughout the room like the sound of shattering glass. Alarmed, Anakin faltered, turning back to glance worriedly at Leia even as Luke continued on to the holo-table.

Leia shook her head. “I’m alright. I’m alright.” The gaze she turned on the holo-table was foreboding. “Let’s go.”

They gathered around the holo-table, their faces grim, and Anakin couldn’t help but feel…. _something_ as he stared at the unknown system.

“Are you sure?” Leia asked Ahsoka.

Ahsoka nodded, her brow furrowed. “It’s the only place that makes any sense. The Empire would want to contain him if they woke him up.”

Anakin frowned at the projection. “You think this is where Obi-wan is?”

“If this is true…” Luke trailed off.

“It’s the best guess we have,” Ahsoka replied.

“Wait, what _is_ this place. Other than the Empire being there, what’s wrong with it?”

Luke, Leia, and Ahsoka all glanced between each other, their trepidation shivering throughout the Force. Finally, Ahsoka stepped forward.

“A few years after the fall of the Republic and the destruction of the Jedi Order, the Empire revealed a new way to ‘fight’ the remaining Jedi. They called it the Inquisition, and its members were Force wielders. Dark side users. They were trained to use the Dark Side of the Force in facilities like the one on this planet. Except…” she hesitated, her lekku flicking from side to side in mute distress. “Not all of the Inquisitors were unknowing of their ability to touch the Force before the Empire showed them. Some of them…”

“Some of them used to be Jedi,” Leia said, meeting Anakin’s gaze. “Since then they’ve hunted down the Jedi that survived the purge and they’ve brought them there.”

Dread was curling in the pit of Anakin’s stomach. “And ‘there’ is...?”

“Mustafar,” Leia replied. “Mustafar is where Jedi go to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	8. "...but a good man"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUSPICION! ARC Lieutenant Fives has gone missing after supposedly attempting the assassination of the Supreme Chancellor! 
> 
> With the Jedi Council refusing to allow her to look for her friend, Ahsoka Tano and the 501st launch an unsanctioned rescue operation to find their missing trooper...

_Supply warehouse, Grand Army of the Republic Headquarters, Coruscant, Core Worlds; 2.5 years after the Battle of Geonosis_

“ _Attention, this is Commander Rex. I need all troopers to form a wide perimeter around warehouse 18 in the 5100 level of the Warehouse District. Do not, I repeat, do not approach the warehouse. General Tano and I will investigate. Remain alert and be discreet. Coordinate with your Captains for position information and do what you can to keep the Coruscant Guard occupied without harming them. They are our brothers as well. Commander Rex out._ ”

Ahsoka met Rex’s gaze, noting the buried worry in his eyes. If Fives was drugged… then there was definitely something going on, more so than just one trooper going crazy in the middle of a battle.

She jumped off of the crate and hit the ground running for the nearest working gunship. Two-fer sped on ahead, catching the lip of the open cockpit and vaulting into it, followed closely by Slip. Rex jumped into the troop compartment just after Ahsoka did, while the rest of the clones piled into the other two gunships.

“They’re going to hold back,” Rex said, “so they’ll be ready if something goes wrong.”

“Do you think it will?” she asked.

Rex smirked, a tiny quirk of his lips that he quickly hid under his helmet. “No offense General, but you’re not much better than General Skywalker when it comes to things going smoothly.”

Ahsoka grinned back, feeling the growing apprehension in her gut smooth into the focus she usually felt during a battle. “Well maybe this time will be different.”

“Not likely,” Rex muttered.

LAAT/i gunships weren’t commonly seen outside of the GAR shipyards, so there was a slight delay as Ahsoka and Rex transferred to a police gunship parked in one of the public landing areas of the complex. The trip to the warehouse was barely twenty minutes, but Ahsoka found herself getting antsier the closer they got, her Force sense reacting to a looming foreboding she just couldn’t place.

They descended into the undercity, the police markings on their borrowed gunship clearing most civilian vessels out of their way. Finally they came to an abandoned loading dock and Two-fer set the gunship down carefully. Rex nodded at the speeder hidden behind a few dusty crates.

“Guess we know how Fives got down here,” he said.

Ahsoka nodded. “These are the coordinates Kix gave us. Fives should be inside.”

Rex sighed. “I hope he knows what he’s doing.”

They stepped into the darkened warehouse, waiting until their eyes adjusted to the gloom. But even with the dim light from the open door, only the vague shapes of boxes could be seen, scattered here and there like a child’s playthings after a tantrum.

Ahsoka slipped her primary saber from her belt and ignited the blade, the green light lending a somewhat sickly air to the crates around them. Beside her she could see Rex’s hands hovering close to his blasters, as his head kept turning to check all the shadows that lurked beyond the reach of her saber.

“Fives?” she called, stepping further into the warehouse. “We’re here, Fives. Kix gave us your message. We’re here to help!”

“General Tano!” Fives’ voice rang out of the darkness, echoes bouncing everywhere. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me! Did you come without troops?”

“We have, Fives,” she called back, glancing at Rex. He shook his head, his eyes still searching the crates around them.”

“Put down your weapons then!”

Ahsoka met Rex’s gaze, tilting her head questioningly. He grimaced but nodded, and reached into his holsters to lift his blasters free and put them on a nearby crate.

“Alright!” Ahsoka shouted, extinguishing her saber and putting it and her shoto blade beside Rex’s blasters. “We’re unarmed now, Fives. Can you please come talk to us?”

“I need your help!”

“And you’ll have it, Fives,” she said, cautiously reaching out with her Force sense. “What happened after you went to Kamino?”

“I found… I found something. A- A plot. A massive deception!”

“What are you talking about, Fives?” she asked, tilting her head as her montrals picked up the sound of gasping breaths from a few crates away. “Who’s plotting?”

“Well there’s a sinister plot…. And- and it works against the Jedi! ...I- I’m not crazy!”

“I never said you were, Fives,” she soothed, holding out a hand to make Rex come to a stop a few feet behind her.

“There’s a chip… organic chips built into our genetic code… they put them in our heads...” Fives muttered. “To make us do whatever someone wants.” The gasps were coming faster now, and Ahsoka began to feel dizzy at the welter of churning thoughts coming from the surface of Fives’ mind. “Even kill the Jedi!”

She nearly recoiled in shock, her horror at Fives words echoed by Rex’s as he paused several steps behind her.

“You have to believe me, General! It’s what killed Tup!”

“I do believe you.” She edged closer to where she thought she heard him. “I came here to help, to learn what you know. I even came here against orders from the Council!”

“You- you did?”

She nodded into the darkness. “The Council told me not to look for you, to just let the Guard handle it. But I wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt it I could avoid it.”

“Then you believe me?”

“Yes Fives,” she said, now only a few meters from where she heard his voice. “I believe you. Now if you just come with me–”

Too late she heard the faint beeping of a keypad and the high-pitched hum of a ray shield generator coming online. There wasn’t enough time to drive out of the way, but if she could just…

Her Force push shoved Rex back a few more steps, leaving him outside the ray shields when they snapped down, trapping her in a rippling white barrier. She flashed a quick hand signal behind her and felt, more than heard, Rex melt back into the shadows between the crates.

“What are you doing, Fives?” she asked the darkness.

“I’m sorry, General. I just… I need to make sure you believe me. I need to– You’re in _danger_ , sir, I’m going to make sure you–”

A faint outline of blue showed around a figure crouched in the shadows, followed by the thud of a body crumpling to the floor. A few faint beeps and the ray shields vanished just as Rex stepped forward into the weak light.

“Went around and caught him with the stun just after he started panicking.” Rex held out Ahsoka’s lightsabers, his mouth pressed thin with worry. “What are we going to do with him?’

Ahsoka shook her head. “His mind felt like he’d been drugged or something. We have to get him somewhere he can recover. Get him back to the gunship, we can take him to–”

Two-fer’s voice squawked on her comlink. “General, Coruscant Guard got wind of Fives’ location. They’re closing fast. If we want to get out we need to leave now.”

Rex’s hand flew to his own comlink. “ETA?”

“Less than five minutes, Commander.”

Rex looked at her. “Not much time, General.”

Ahsoka nodded decisively. “Get him to the gunship. I’ll clean up here.”

He eyed her dubiously as he bent and slung Fives over his shoulder. She only grinned and pointed at the barrels of expensive – and highly flammable – liquor stacked right next to where Fives had lain. Shaking his head, Rex huffed a laugh, but moved steadily towards the exit and the gunship. Ahsoka shoved the barrels open with the Force, making sure to spread the noxious liquid as far as possible before following him.

Once back out into the comparative brightness of the loading dock, she waited for Rex and Fives to be ensconced safely onto the gunship before waving at Two-fer to take off and hover just beyond the edges of the loading dock before pulling a firestarter out of her belt-pouch. It was a nifty little device, made by one of the 501st’s top explosives experts. (Slate, like most explosive experts, was both very gifted and _very_ crazy.) She only had to twist the top half until it crunched, shake twice, then throw it into the warehouse as hard as she could, and with a roar like a mortar going off, the warehouse burst into flame.

Ahsoka leapt onto the troop deck of the hovering gunship, next to Rex and a supine Fives, and banged on the hull to signal Two-fer to leave. The ship rose into the air, pursued by the head from the raging warehouse fire, and began the long ascent back to the city surface. Rex was checking Fives’ vitals, his face growing graver and graver with each new piece of data flickering across the screen of his borrowed scanner.

“He needs a hospital, General,” Rex said. “For the drugs if nothing else.”

Ahsoka nodded thoughtfully, an idea flickering into life in her brain as their rose through the dusty alleys for the Warehouse District.

“Two-fer,” she said into her comlink. “I’m giving you coordinates to a place on the edge of the Industrial District. Take us there.”

“Understood, General.”

“Hold on, Fives,” she said as she knelt by her friend’s haggard body. “We’ll figure this out.”

Behind them, firefighter sirens echoed off the walls of the various warehouses, drowning out the roar of the gunships of the Coruscant Guard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the lower parts of the city, the Coruscanti night was both sudden and absolute, the final rays of sunset strangled by reflective windows and expanses of durasteel. The inhabitants of these areas fought back, of course, with hundreds of brightly colored lights and flickering advertisement screens. These were especially prevalent in the sectors both inside and around the Entertainment District, almost as if the people were trying to bring as much light down to their levels as possible.

One such patch of lights gleamed brightly around a slightly run-down diner on the edge of the Industrial District. Dex’s Diner had been there for years, serving filling, inexpensive – and fairly greasy – food to hard working industrial employees and occasional late-night dancers headed home from the dilapidated bars of the local area. A sign in the window advertised “the best food this side of the Senate District,” but the true draw for most of the patron’s of Dex’s Diner was the quiet, unassuming location and the “no questions asked” policy of the diner’s owner.

So a speeder landing closer to the back of the diner than the front wasn’t unusual enough to attract attention, even with the hooded figure that slipped off the back of the speeder and slunk through the various shadows between the pools of flickering neon lights to a door nestled at the bottom of a flight of stairs. In fact, no one was even close enough to see it.

The door opened after one sharp rap of the figure’s fist, revealing a sparse, bare room with a large cot shoved up against the wall and two more hooded figures bent over a supine body.

Ahsoka sagged slightly when the door closed, and pushed her hood back from her montrals only when the door’s locks engaged, coaxed into life by Rex’s deft touch on the grimy controls.

“Did the Council…” he asked once she’d tossed her cloak onto a chair in the corner.

She shook her head. “No. The Council didn’t suspect anything. They told me that Fives rigged the warehouse to go up once the Guard got there.” She scoffed. “And I know for a fact that none of the Guard was caught in it.” Her lekku twitched with unease. “Fives has been ruled as a traitor to the Republic, since they couldn’t find his body.”

Rex frowned. “We knew the Chancellor wasn’t just going to let him go, not after framing Fives with attempted assassination.”

“Did we get anymore out of him”

“No,” he said. “He’s still drifting in and out too much to give a cohesive report. Their Ladyships over there are keeping Fives lightly sedated until he works whatever the Kaminoans gave him out of his system.”

The two hooded figures by Fives’ sleeping body turned at Rex’s words, their hands pulling their hoods back to reveal similarly delicate features, one dark-haired and the other light.

“It’s nice to see you again, Master Jedi,” Sabé, former handmaiden to Queen Amidala of Naboo, said as she bowed politely at Ahsoka. “It’s been a while.”

Ahsoka smiled as she returned the bow. “Thank you for coming, Sabé. I wasn’t sure the contact I had was still accurate… or that you would come. And I couldn’t ask Senator Amidala because of Fives’...”

“I agree.” Sabé smiled. “It’s easier if the senator has plausible deniability for this sort of of thing. Speaking of which,” she gestured to the blonde woman. “This is Eirtaé. She was another of the Senator’s handmaidens. I brought her here because, out of all of us, she was always the best at this sort of thing.”

“You say that like I haven’t kept you from dying on more than one occasion.” Eirtaé said softly, a wry twist to her mouth. She turned to Ahsoka. “Your friend is stable for now, but with the drugs in his system, he would do better if he had a place to rest.”

Ahsoka frowned. “He can’t stay here. With the entire GAR looking for him, staying here will get him killed.”

“I agree,” Eirtaé said, “which is why Sabé and I will take him with us back to Naboo.”

Sabé nodded.

Ahsoka looked hesitantly between them. “Are you sure? If you’re found with him–”

“No offense to your troops, General, Commander,” Sabé said, “but this won’t be the first time we’ve hidden things from the Republic.”

“He’ll be safe?” Rex asked.

“My family has an estate in the Lake District,” Sabé replied. “No one will think to look for a clone there, on Naboo.”

“We don’t have many other options, General,” Rex said to Ahsoka. “But…” he hesitated. “If what Fives was saying is true, then we need more information.”

“Has he said anything more?” she asked Sabé and Eirtaé. “Anything that might give us a hint at what he found?”

They shook their heads.

“Alright.” Ahsoka nodded, her mind frantically trying to search through what Fives had said back in the warehouse. He’d been rambling, both in voice and in mind, but there'd been something… 

“Rex,” she said, her blood going cold as she remembered. “Does Medical have anything that can do a brain scan?”

He looked at her sharply. “Nothing that wouldn’t be registered. We’d need a Jedi Healer to sign off on the use of the scanner. Kix doesn’t have a high enough clearance.”

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Okay, I have an idea.” She turned to Sabé and Eirtaé. “Thank you for helping Fives, if you need my help with anything–”

“We will let you know.” Sabé nodded. “We’ll comm you when we’ve reached Naboo. Your friend should wake soon after that.”

“Tell him, if he’ll listen, that you two are friends of mine. That should help with most of the problems you might have.”

The former handmaidens smiled. “Don’t worry, Master Jedi,” Eirtaé said, amusement curling at the corner of her mouth. “We have plenty of experience with jumpy soldiers.”

Sabé chuckled at some private joke, her eyes shining as she smirked at Eirtaé. But she nodded reassuringly at Ahsoka’s questioning look and shooed her and Rex out the door with a whispered “walk in peace, Master Jedi,” and a steadfast locking of the grimy door at the bottom of the stairwell.

Ahsoka and Rex slid back into the Temple through one of the entrances Anakin had taught her, back in the first few months she’d been his padawan. They made their way to the Halls of Healing, stopping only to collect Artoo from Ahsoka’s quarters, and surreptitiously snuck into one of the Hall’s larger storerooms, filled to the brim with dusty crates, bundled linens, and a slightly glitchy full body scanner that had been shoved up against the far wall.

Artoo locked the door behind them and Rex stared at the scanner dubiously, his fingers hovering over the catches that would remove his armor.

“What exactly are we looking for, General?” he asked, carefully setting aside his shoulder plates and pauldron.”

Ahsoka was busy hunting down the power cable for the scanner and shoving aside boxes with the Force until she could find an outlet to plug it in. “Five’s mentioned a chip in his head. If we find one in yours then we prove him right that there’s a chip in every clone,” she said. “Plus once we know what we’re looking for, I can program a handheld scanner to find it.”

“You think we will, then?”

She paused, her hands pointedly _not_ trembling. “I think we can’t rule it out and I think we don’t have time for Fives to wake up and tell us what he found. We need to find it ourselves. Hey Artooey, come over here.”

Artoo rolled over, letting out a questioning beep.

Ahsoka grinned at the astromech. “You think you can hack it? We’ll need Master Che’s authorization otherwise.”

Artoo chirped something rude, though Ahsoka just grinned wider, and stuck its data probe into a port on the scanner’s base. Faint whirring and clicking sounds ensued, followed by a string of beeps and squawks that had Ahsoka’s brow-markings raising nearly to her headdress and caused Rex to blink, nonplussed. Artoo growled, his data probe churning endlessly back and forth until the scanner table lit up with a quiet click and Artoo let out a pleased-sounding hum.

“Thanks, buddy,” she said, patting the blue and silver dome. “You made it untraceable, right?”

Artoo trilled at her.

“Sorry! Sorry!” she said. “You know I have to double check. Please go and modulate the perceived power output while I give Rex here a scan.” She indicated the dusty scanning slab as Artoo rolled away. “Up you get, Commander.”

Rex settled on the slab, his helmet placed on the floor beside him. Ahsoka busied herself at the controls.

“Alright,” she said. “First scan.”

The scanner whirred to life, thin beams of light passing over Rex’s motionless face. She check the results. Nothing.

“Alright. Level 2 scan.”

Again the lights rippled over Rex’s supine form, focusing on his head, and again nothing came up. The scans at level 3 and 4 were much the same, though the level 4 scan got stuck halfway through and Ahsoka had to resort to her master’s tried and true “kinetic redirect” to get it moving again. But the level 5 scan… 

Ahsoka froze as the results came up on the monitor, the numbers reading as “everything normal” despite the glaring abnormality in the middle of the screen. She ran it again, heart in her throat, but the readings stayed the same, “everything’s normal.”

All except for the microscopic mass located in her friend’s frontal lobe.

“What is it?” Rex asked when she’d been quiet too long.

She turned the monitor towards him

Rex slid off the scanning slab, his eyes fixed on the scan of his brain. “Is that..?”

Ahsoka shook her head. “We don’t know for certain.”

“But you suspect, don’t you.” He whirled around in the cramped space, his feet taking him from the scanner to the door and back again. “Fives was right. Those damned _aiwha-_ bait put something in us.” His breath caught. “What if this is what made Tup turn on General Tiplar?”

She blanched in horror. “If that’s true… Force. All of those men…”

“The whole GAR could be a ticking time bomb, and no one even knows it.” Rex grabbed his helmet and shoved it on. “You have the scan data?” 

She nodded.

“Then let’s go. I don’t want this in my head any longer than necessary.”

Rex strode through the door, nearly running over Artoo parked just by the entrance. Ahsoka followed after him, for once almost scrambling to keep up instead of leading with Rex at her shoulder. But she didn’t begrudge him his haste.

“What are we going to do about this?” she asked once they reached the speeder bays. “Do you think we should tell everyone?”

“My men deserve to make their own choices,” Rex spat. “No _chip_ can tell us what to do.”

Ahsoka grimaced. “That wasn’t what I meant, Rex. I wasn’t going to stop you from telling the 501st. But we don’t have the manpower or the connections to get this out to the entire GAR _and_ keep it a secret. And what about the Council?”

Rex softened slightly, though his scowl deepened. “I don’t know.”

“ _Are_ we going to tell the Council?” she asked, selecting a speeder and putting it through its startup sequence. “I may not agree with them much lately, but they would never have sanctioned… this.”

“You really believe that?”

She tugged the speeder into the air. “C’mon Rex. You think Master Plo would let this happen? Or Master Kenobi, back when he was here? I’m not a fan of the Council right now either, but implanting chips? That goes against everything the Order stands for.”

Rex glanced at her sadly. “Kid, this entire war is against everything the Order stands for. Except here you are.”

Her shoulders tightened, but she forced them down. “You’re my friend.”

“I’m not arguing that General. But with everything I know about your Order, your Code… This war is the worst thing that could have happened to you Jedi. You’ve done well adapting to it, to leading us clones around, but it doesn’t change the facts.”

Cool air lifted her lekku from the back of her neck as they flew to the GAR Military Complex, but the breeze wasn’t soothing enough to calm the churning in her gut.

“You think the Council might have ordered this?”

“I think the only Jedi I’m going to trust right now is you, General,” Rex corrected. “I’ll need to do some investigating before I trust any of the others.”

She sighed. “Alright. I won’t inform the Council. But that still leaves getting the news out to the rest of the GAR.”

“Let me worry about that. I know some people who will be happy to know about this stuff, _and_ they’ll keep it within clones only.” He glanced at her. “Don’t worry, General, this won’t get out.”

Ahsoka pursed her lips and didn’t answer, slipping into a little-used skylane and opening up the speeder’s throttle. They reached the Military Complex in record time, thanks in part to Ahsoka, who’d neatly dodged every traffic bot that had tried to tag them in their sensors. 

Landing amidst the flurry of taxis and shuttles bringing back clones from the Entertainment District, Ahsoka and Rex faded into the crowd of troopers making their way back to their respective barracks. Only a few noticed Ahsoka tagging along behind Rex – most were too tired, too distracted, or too drunk – and even they were quickly preoccupied by something else more interesting than a slight Togruta Jedi Knight. 

It helped that Ahsoka wasn’t as famous as Anakin had been – she still hadn’t gotten anywhere near his level of reputation – and it helped that she’d wrapped the Force around herself in a neat little trick Master Obi-wan had taught her. With enough concentration, she was able to keep most, if not all, non-Force Sensitive people from remembering she’d ever existed. Their gaze would light upon her and then slide off just as quickly, the Force tugging their attention to something _infinitely_ more interesting. It wasn’t strictly invisibility, but it was a good way to blend into a rowdy crowd.

She dropped the Don’t Notice Me once they reached the 501st barracks, wincing from the low-grade headache forming at her temples from the strain of holding the mind trick for so long. But Rex was making a beeline to the third floor barracks, so she pushed the feeling of the headache to the back of her mind and followed, nodding to the clones who were beginning to look curiously through their open doors at what would bring Commander Rex tearing into the barracks at such an hour.

Most of the clones gave her startled glances and hasty salutes when they recognized her, but Ahsoka waved them down and hurried after Rex, catching up to him just as he entered the lifts to the third floor. Word had obviously spread in the few minutes it took to go between floors because nearly every clone was lined along the walls when she and Rex exited the lift (the ones that weren’t along the walls were crowded into their doorways), all in various states of undress.

Kix was stumbling out of his barracks when Rex and Ahsoka walked up, Rex’s face looking more and more like a thundercloud with each step he took. “Inside,” Rex said before Kix could fully exit the room. “We need to talk.”

Kix shot an alarmed glance at Ahsoka but complied, ducking back into his room as Rex turned to address the troopers crowded in the halls. “Everyone go back to your rooms. You will be briefed on this soon.” He gestured for Ahsoka to proceed him. “General.”

The door sealed behind them, cutting short the low murmur that had started at Rex’s words. Jesse was sitting on his bunk, blinking sleep from his eyes while Kix looked between Ahsoka’s grave expression and Rex’s thundercloud frown and began to look more and more alarmed.

“Fives, is he?”

“He’ll be fine,” Ahsoka responded. “We got him out in time.”

Kix sighed and Jesse’s shoulders relaxed. “So this is about what Fives was rambling about, then?” Jesse asked.

Rex nodded curtly. “Kix,” he said. “What would you need to perform brain surgery?”

“ _Brain surgery?_ ” Kix yelped. “Why would you need to perform brain surgery?”

“Fives reported finding an organic chip in his head and said that the chips were there to control our actions,” Rex said. “The General and I ran a scan on me at the Temple and we managed to find what Fives was talking about. Can you remove it?”

Kix sputtered. “I’d need the scan data, for one, and a dedicated medical droid for the surgery itself – You _can’t_ just cut into your brain willy-nilly, sir! Brain surgery is complicated and dangerous and not to mention _potentially fatal_ –”

“We have the scan data,” Ahsoka interjected, trying to keep her voice calm and soothing. “It took a level 5 atomic scan to find it, but–”

“A Level 5 scan! Commander, I’m not sure you’ve thought this through but–”

“This chip is what killed Tup, Kix.” Rex’s voice was tight with anger. “Fives was framed and nearly killed to keep this secret hidden. What do you need to get this thing out?”

His words fell into the sudden silence like boulders into a shallow pond, sending Kix’s objections flying like so many scattered drops of water. 

“You’re certain?” Jesse asked.

“We’d need more scans to be conclusive,” Ahsoka replied, “but… yes.”

Jesse and Kix looked at each other, an unheard conversation exchanged in a few twitches of an eyelid and the twist of a mouth. 

“Alright,” Kix said, looking away from his brother. “Let me see what you have, General. If we know what we’re looking for then we shouldn’t need the big medical scanning equipment.”

Ahsoka handed over the datachip she’d stored Rex’s scan data on and watched as Kix yanked out a handheld scanner from his locker and inserted the chip into the data port, his fingers manipulating the controls with the ease of long practice. A minute passed, then two, before Kix walked over to Jesse and carefully ran the scanner over his brother’s head. The scan took longer than the large machine back at the Temple, but Ahsoka could tell it worked by the look on Kix’s face when the results flashed on the screen.

He handed the scanner to Jesse and sat on a nearby bed. “Every clone?”

“Fives thought so,” Rex said.

Kix looked horrified. “If those chips all went off… it would be a massacre.”

“And the Jedi would be the target.”

Kix’s head whipped around to stare at Rex, ignoring Jesse’s grumbling as the movement messed up the scanner. “You’re certain?”

“As much as I can be without testing it. And we’re _not_ testing it.”

“ _Shab_ ,” Kix breathed, echoed by Jesse as the scanner pinged its results. He grabbed the scanner from Jesse and carefully skimmed over what it told him. “Well, the good news is that the chip appears to be in the same place in all of us. The bad news is it’s hard to get to.”

“How hard?”

“You’ll definitely need a med droid to get it out. Unless you want to end up a vegetable.” 

Rex started pacing. “Med droids are too easily traceable. If the Council didn’t know about this already, then clones commandeering med droids for unauthorized surgeries would definitely get noticed.” 

“You thinking Skirata and his boys?” Jesse asked after sending a reassuring smile to Ahsoka when Rex mentioned the Council.

Rex nodded. “He’d have the reach, and he’d definitely be willing to send the message around.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news here,” Kix said, “but if we get this message out to all our brothers, there’s going to be trouble. A lot of them don’t have as good a General as we do. They hear about this, they’ll leave.”

“They deserve to have a choice–” Jesse interjected.

“Not if it leaves the Republic defenseless!”

“Jesse’s right,” Ahsoka cut in, the tips of her lekku curling slightly in embarrassment while Jesse and Kix stared at her in shock. “You and your brothers should have the choice. It’s not an order, but… I think you should tell Sergeant Skirata.” She shrugged as their shock morphed to astonishment. “I’ve heard Master Plo talk about him, and I’ve overheard a few commando squads mention him before.”

Jesse and Kix looked towards Rex, who was staring at Ahsoka thoughtfully. “We’ll brief the 501st on this first, see what our brothers have to say. If they agree, then we’ll take this to Skirata. He can make sure the word gets out.” He reached out and pressed a button on his vambrace, and the low murmur of thousands of soldiers began to filter through the armor’s tiny external speakers. “Attention, soldiers of the 501st, this is Commander Rex. Earlier tonight, General Tano sent you out to find any word of ARC Trooper Fives. I am here to tell you that Fives is safe. The General and I found him in a warehouse and we managed to secure him before the Coruscant Guard arrived. 

“I’m sure you’ve also heard of the Chancellor’s edict concerning Fives’ supposed assassination. Officially, Fives is now considered an enemy of the Republic and he will not be returning to the 501st. Unofficially…” he paused, a muscle twitching in his face as he fought to keep his voice even. “Unofficially, Fives was framed because he discovered a plot that would place us, place every single clone, as a weapon against the Jedi.”

Anger flashed in the Force, hot and loud, as every clone within comlink range of Rex reacted to his words. Ahsoka breathed through it, letting their anger flow through and around her without sinking in.

“The Kaminoans,” Rex continued, “have placed microscopic chips in our heads. And it was one of these chips that caused Tup to go insane and kill General Tiplar. Fives found this out, and had his chip removed, and it is likely because of this that the Chancellor tried to frame Fives for murder.” He sighed, and let the silence stretch between his words. “I don’t know if the Jedi Council is aware of this development. I don’t know what their opinion is on it, if they even have any. The Council has not been informed.” 

Mutterings could be heard now on the return feed, but no one spoke loud enough for Ahsoka to catch. 

“General Tano was informed when I was. She is the one who has pushed to find this out. _She is not to blame_. But… she has raised an excellent point. I’m not the only one who can decide whether to tell this to the rest of our brothers. This isn’t just my battle to fight.

“We have the ability to remove these chips, to remove whoever's decision it was to make us incapable of choosing.” His face fell, and Ahsoka knew he was remembering a battlefield on a darkened planet, where his own blasters had brought down brothers instead of enemies. “We are more than droids.”

He straightened and threw off the remembered specter of Umbara. “Now is the time for us to choose whether to remove these chips and tell the rest of our brothers or to remain silent and hope that nothing will come of this.” Rex smirked at the multitudes of scoffs and jeers that came through the open channel. “I doubt that this’ll be the last we hear of this, but both choices come with consequences that I cannot and will not decide on alone. So… battalion captains, report in once you’ve received your platoons’ choices. We’ll make this decision together.”

He closed the open channel with a single flick of a button, but in the silence after his words, Ahsoka could feel the beginnings of a maelstrom of emotions in the Force. Anger was the most prevalent, with betrayal a close second, but there was determination also, and a grim pleasure at the thought of ruining the plans of whomever came up with those chips. Rex’s fingers brushed her shoulder, and beneath the emotions of her men, she caught a glimpse of Rex’s feelings in the Force, determination, guilt, anger, and sadness all tangled up together.

She smiled up at him. “It’ll be okay, Rex.”

He sat down beside her, slouching as much as his armor would allow. “I hope you’re right, Ahsoka. Things will get real messy otherwise.”

Ahsoka knocked her shoulder against his, feeling the emotional maelstrom in the Force echo in her bones. “We always figure things out. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it now.”

“...I hope you’re right.”

The barracks they were in – empty save for Jesse and Kix – was deathly silent as the four of them waited for the troopers of the 501st to digest the life-shattering information imparted to them. Kix was fiddling with the scanner he’d jury-rigged to find the chips, his fingers flicking over the controls, and Jesse was typing something on a data-pad, his brow furrowed in concentration. In fact, it was quiet enough that when Rex’s comlink beeped at him, showing a new transmission, Ahsoka nearly jumped out of her skin. 

With a slight glance at her, and a near imperceptible apologetic shrug of his shoulders, Rex slipped on his helmet and touched the controls on his vambrace to answer the transmissions popping up on his comlink. Ahsoka couldn’t read much in his body language after he put the helmet on, too much was covered by armor, but from the slow triumph seeping into the Force and the gradual straightening of Rex’s shoulders, she guessed that he’d gotten good news.

Finally he removed his helmet, the look on his face unreadable.

“They’re…” He cleared his throat. “They want to tell the rest of the GAR.”

Ahsoka smiled hesitantly. “That’s good right?”

Rex almost shook his head, stopped, then shifted awkwardly. “That’s not all.”

“Oh?”

“The men aren’t happy with the Order. There were… arguments about whether the Council ordered these chips or not.”

Her heart sank. “...oh.”

But Rex grinned. “You’re fine, kid. Apparently you can do no wrong.”

She blinked at him, flabbergasted. “What…?”

“The 501st will follow you, General, no matter what,” he said. “They just… they might have a problem if they’re supposed to follow anyone else.”

She ducked her head, pleased and embarrassed. “I can work with that.”

Rex nodded and opened his mouth to say something, only to snap it shut as Jesse shoved a datapad under his nose.

“Here,” Jesse said. “I compiled all the data. It should be good to give to Sergeant Skirata now.”

Rex looked over the datapad. “Nice work, Jesse. We’ll need to schedule a meeting with the Sergeant as quietly as we can.”

“Already done. I sent the coordinates to your comlink.”

“If you want to get your chip removed first, then this meeting will have to wait,” Kix interrupted. “I want to keep you in observation for a little while after it’s gone.”

“I can do it,” Ahsoka offered after Rex’s lips thinned at the new information.

The three men glanced at each other.

“Sergeant Skirata…doesn’t like the Jedi much, General,” Jesse said, shrugging apologetically.

“I don’t blame him.” She smiled ruefully. “I don’t like my Order very much right now either.”

The men glanced at each other again, a silent conversation passing between them before Rex nodded at Jesse and handed Ahsoka the datapad.

“Jesse and a few others will go with you,” he said.

She shook her head. “I don’t need–”

“They aren’t bodyguards,” Rex cut in. “They’re there to show that you’re doing this with our support, General. It’ll help.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Kix stood up. “Alright, Commander, time to go. We’ll need to do a fair amount of work to get this set up so we can de-chip the 501st after you’re done.”

Rex pressed a hand to Ahsoka’s shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Ahsoka. Just remember he has more experience than you.”

She snorted. “That’s very reassuring, Rex.”

He smirked back. “I have faith, General.”

Rex and Kix left, moving quickly to the door and down the hall, but Ahsoka stayed where she was, head down and exhaling slowly to try and calm her twinging nerves. After a few minutes, a hand entered her vision and she looked up to see Jesse smiling encouragingly. 

“Up and at'em, General Tano,” he said. “You’ve got this.”

She clutched the datapad, noting again the time and place that Jesse had set up for the meeting. If she was going to make it, she’d need to leave now. “Alright,” she said and grasped Jesse’s hand, letting him pull her up off the bed she’d been sitting on. “Let’s go.”

The walk back through the barracks was anti-climactic. Most of the doors stayed closed, though Ahsoka could feel the churning of conflicted emotions from each of the rooms. But in the rooms with the open doors, once the troopers inside heard her coming, they all filed out into the hallway and saluted as she went past and tried to keep the heady flush of embarrassment from her features.

Saber, Jax, and Torc joined them on the ground floor, near the lifts, and all three men fell into easy formation behind Ahsoka and Jesse. Saber, in armor like always, stepped forward into the spot by Ahsoka’s left, while Jesse stayed right and Jax and Torc brought up the rear, bickering cheerfully about… cheeses?

Whatever they bickered about, it gave the group a more relaxed air as Ahsoka led them through the Complex, weaving a zig-zag pattern between different buildings as she headed toward the Commando Barracks.

An imposing figure in red and white armor melted out of the shadows between buildings as Ahsoka and her troopers walked through the alley near the Officers’ Mess, startling her enough that her fingers twitched towards her sabers, though she managed to still them quickly enough. But Jesse still caught at her elbow to prevent her from drawing her weapons and Saber smoothly slid into place in front of her, setting himself between Ahsoka and the strange ARC Trooper Captain. Behind her, Torc and Jax had fallen silent, carefully stepping up to flank Ahsoka on the left and right until she’d been as neatly surrounded as if she’d been on a battlefield.

Tension thrummed between Ahsoka’s boys and the ARC Captain, the clones sizing up each other like junkyard tooka-cats. She kept herself purposefully relaxed, her instincts warning her that any other reaction would be noted and remembered, and studied the ARC Trooper Captain in front of her. He was slightly broader and taller than a normal clone, with an air of danger and menace that fairly vibrated in her Force sense. Without a closer look, his emotions were unreadable to her, locked behind a wall of indomitable control, but she did sense a very faint feeling of surprise when she didn’t order any of her men to stand down.

“General Tano, I presume,” came a voice from behind the ARC Captain. “You’ll have to excuse my boy Ordo here. He’s a mite twitchy whenever clandestine meetings are arranged by people we don’t know.”

The speaker stepped forward, a middle-aged, stocky man in a synth-leather jacket and worn brown pants. His hair was shorn in a crew-cut, short and liberally speckled with gray, that did little to soften the craggy, scarred features of his face. 

“Kal Skirata,” he said. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Ahsoka stepped to the side until she had a clear view of him and bowed politely. “Sergeant Skirata,” she nodded to the armored Null-ARC and felt another faint twitch of surprise in the Force, this time from both men, “Captain Ordo, I apologize for meeting so late, but we’ve recently found information that I was told you ought to know.”

“We?” Skirata asked, his face impassive.

“Commander Rex and myself,” she clarified. “You’re aware that ARC Lieutenant Fives was under my command in the 501st?”

Skirata nodded. “Heard he tried to kill the Chancellor.”

“He was framed.”

Skirata didn’t move, and Ahsoka suppressed a grimace of irritation, aware that he was waiting for her to be anything less than polite. She hadn’t ever had any interaction with the sergeant before, but she knew him – and by extension, his boys – by reputation. Kal Skirata was a Mandalorian brought in to train clone commandos, who had picked up an experimental group of clones called the Null ARCs, who were temperamental, violent, ruthless, _and_ only loyal to the man who’d trained them. None of them, of course, were very fond of the Jedi.

“Rex and I were informed of Fives’ location about 14 standard hours ago, and we managed to get to him before the Coruscant Guard did. We smuggled him out.”

At this Skirata finally showed a reaction, though he only raised an eyebrow. “Odd move for a Jedi.”

She lifted her chin in challenge. “Fives is my friend. I’m not going to let him die just because the Chancellor wants a secret kept.”

He frowned. “What secret?”

She handed him the datapad, her face kept carefully blank. “Fives was rambling about a plot against the Jedi Order. So Rex and I did some digging on the things he said. This is what we found.”

He read over the datapad, the lines on his face getting deeper and craggier as he did. By the time he reached the end of the brief that Jesse had written, she could see the metal of the datapad bowing under the pressure of Skirata’s grip.

“This is accurate?” he growled, a dense, cold anger beginning to pulse around him.

Ahsoka nodded. “The scan data is from Commander Rex’s brain scan. You should be able to modify a hand scanner to be able to locate the chips before you remove them.”

He blinked at her. “Remove them?” His lips thinned as his eyes went flat. “If you think for a moment that I’ll do this just to protect your precious Jedi Order–”

“That’s not why I’m doing this,” she snapped, ignoring how Jesse and the others shifted slightly in response to her tone. “I’m doing this because I was told you had the resources for it, because these are my friends, my _men_ , and I’ll be _damned_ if I let anyone hurt them like this.” She bared her teeth at his look of faint astonishment. “The Council told me not to go look for Fives. As far as I’m concerned, they don’t have the right to handle this.

“From what Rex told me,” she continued, despite his now unreadable expression, “you have the connections to get this information out to the rest of the GAR, minus the Jedi and non-clone officers. They deserve to have a choice, don’t you think?”

Skirata stared at her, his face still impassive, though Ahsoka could feel the edges of his whirling emotions in the Force. Surprise seemed to be foremost, though anger was an extremely close second, but eventually he settled on approval, and Ahsoka blinked in surprise at the sensation.

He nodded, this time much more respectfully, and slipped the data chip from the ‘pad into the pocket before handing the tablet back to her. “Apologies, General Tano. I’m more used to Jedi that treat my boys as expendable.”

“They’re not,” she said curtly.

“No.” He smiled. “They’re not.” He patted his pocket. “I’ll spread this around, make sure that those who want the chips out are able to get them out.” He turned to walk away, but stopped. “You realize that when this gets out, there are going to be a lot of clones who lose faith in the Republic and the Jedi Order.”

Ahsoka smiled ruefully. “I know. And I don’t blame them. The Order broke faith with them first. Even if…” she hesitated. “Even if the Council doesn’t know about the chips, if they’d listened to Fives, then he wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Skirata gave her an odd look. “You haven’t told your Council? Even though this would directly affect the Order?”

She shrugged. “It was more important to me to get this information out to the rest of the clones. Besides, if I told the Council I’d have to say how I learned it, since the only briefings I got were the ones telling me that Fives had gone on the run and the one where he was labeled a traitor to the Republic. I doubt they’d be happy with me at this point.”

“Fair enough.” He reached into a different pocket and pulled out a comlink, one of the highly secure and untraceable variety, and tossed it underhand to Ahsoka. “If any of your boys want to get out. Let me know. I have a few things set aside.”

She smiled at him. “I will, thank you.”

“No, thank _you_ , General, for telling me this.” 

Skirata and Captain Ordo faded back into the shadows, and even with her Force-enhanced senses, she lost them after only a couple meters. 

“Well,” Torc said. “That went better than expected.”

Jesse touched her elbow to draw her attention. “Kix commed. Rex got the chip out with no complications. They’re setting out a schedule for the rest of the 501st now.”

Ahsoka exhaled, feeling her shoulders slump with the release of tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Tell Kix thank you for me, and remind Rex to rest. Force knows he won’t do it otherwise.”

Jesse grinned. “You’re one to talk, General.”

She scowled up at him, her amusement betrayed by the slight uptick of the corners of her mouth. “I’m still better than Master Skywalker.” 

Jax laughed. “Yeah, that’s not hard.”

Ahsoka mock-glared at the retort, and the walk back to the barracks was filled with banter and light-hearted sarcasm. Jax and Torc fell back into their bickering, with Jesse tossing in occasional comments to spur them on to new heights, and Saber remained his usual taciturn self, keeping a steady presence on her left side. But even with the (admittedly slightly forced) good cheer of the men surrounding her, Ahsoka couldn’t help but sense the still-churning turmoil that lurked in the Force. It was deeper now, harder to find, but the Force still rang with the feeling of an oncoming storm and her hands still itched for the hilts of her sabers.

_I have a bad feeling about this_ , she heard Anakin’s voice echo in her head, and though it was just in her mind, she couldn’t help but answer. _Me too, Master. Me too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	9. At the Edge of the Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his continued effort to find the whereabouts of Obi-wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker goes to Mustafar, where the Empire has its INQUISITORIAL ACADEMY, a school for Dark-side wielders of the Force.
> 
> However, waiting for him is an enemy out of nightmare.

A figure knelt on a receiver pad, his helmeted head bowed. Around him the room was shrouded in darkness, pressing in until the very air was thick enough to choke on. The hologram that flickered to life before him was of another figure, hooded and cloaked. Only the lower half of the hologram’s face was visible, the skin stretched thin over bone and wrinkles until the entire visage was not unlike that of a corpse.

“What is thy bidding, my Master,” the kneeling figure asked.

“There is a great disturbance in the Force,” the hologram hissed. “Anakin Skywalker has returned.”

“I have faced him, my Lord. He fights with the Rebellion now.”

The hologram wheezed. “He must not be allowed to find Kenobi. You must intercept him.”

“He goes to Mustafar.”

“Let him.” A pause. “When he arrives, capture him and bring him to me, along with any others. Let the Rebellion despair at his imprisonment.”

“If he resists?”

The kneeling figure abruptly collapsed to his hands and knees, his breaths shifting to choked metallic gasps. 

“You must not fail me in this, Lord Draigh,” the hologram replied, his voice echoing from every surface in the chamber like a hailstorm of knives. “If Skywalker resists, _crush him._ Let the lava become his tomb.”

Draigh shook where he knelt, his fists clenched against some unseen agony. “As you wish, my Master.”

”It is only a matter of time before we destroy this Rebellion and ensure our control over the galaxy. Be patient, Lord Draigh, our victory is nearly at hand. After our final weapon is complete, these pitiful Rebels will be powerless against us.”

Draigh looked up, his face-mask blank and featureless as always, but there was a hint of teeth in his voice as he replied.

“I await the day with pleasure, Lord Sidious.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Rebel Ship_ Stormfist, _en route to the Mustafar System;_ _3 years after the Battle of Yavin_

Anakin was ensconced with R2-D2 in the _Stormfist_ ’s hangar bay, hip deep under the lone X-wing they’d brought with them for escort, when Ahsoka found him. The X-wing’s engine lay scattered in pieces around his legs, and as she watched, R2 extended his manipulator arm, plucked another piece off the durasteel decking, and placed it into Anakin’s outstretched palm.

“Hey Snips,” Anakin said over the ratcheting crunch of the engine piece sliding into place. He pushed himself out from under the X-wing. “Did the Rebellion have anything more on Obi-wan?”

She shook her head. “No. Just a confirmation of what we already knew. Mustafar is our best bet right now.”

Anakin’s right hand tightened on the tool he held, his eyes dark. “So the op is a go?”

“Padmé made sure of it.”

He sighed, and shoved himself back under the X-wing. “Thanks, Ahsoka.”

“Of course.” She frowned, folding her legs and settling herself next to his feet. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”

“I do understand patience, Snips. If this planet is as bad as you say, then I have to wait at least until you guys can come with me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

The sound of metal on metal paused. “Then what did you mean?”

“I mean…” she pursed her lips, frustrated. “You’re taking _everything_ extremely well. You just woke up from the stasis pod about a week ago and you’re… well… “ She shrugged. “I’d expected you to react differently.”

Anakin rubbed at his forehead, uncaring of the engine grease on his fingers. He chanced a glance as his former padawan underneath the plating of the X-wing, noting how Ahsoka was curled in on herself, her usually confident posture faded into an uneasy bewilderment. 

Not for the first time he muttered a few choice curses for the situation he’d managed to get into. Whatever twisted, sadistic mind that had so blithely placed a trap that could ensnare a Jedi deserved to get chomped on by a sarlacc. Seeing Ahsoka so unlike what he remembered… hurt...often quite a bit more than he thought it would. _Not about you, Skywalker,_ he reminded himself. _You left_ her _, remember?_

He pulled himself back out from under the X-wing, wiping his hands on a nearby rag. “I’m not going to lie. It’s been hard. Seeing how everything’s changed… you, Padmé, the _Empire_.” He grimaced. “Sometimes I just want to…” A nearby light flickered as its delicate filaments started to warp and he forced himself to exhale, letting the Force around him settle back into its natural flow. “I’ll figure all this out once I find Obi-wan.”

Ahsoka looked like she was nursing a bad tooth, pained but determined all at once. “And if we don’t?”

The room held its breath.

“Then I fight the Empire.” He stared steadily at her. “I _have_ done this before, Snips. You fight until you can’t anymore, and then you do everything else.” 

“It’s never that easy, Skyguy.” Ahsoka sighed. “Trust me, I know.” She grimaced at his questioning glance. “Well, you were gone, and then Obi-wan, and then I left the Order… It was hard. I had Rex and Padmé and the 501st, but you… You haven’t said anything about how _you_ feel.”

_What was there to say,_ he wondered. _He_ hadn’t been fighting for decades against a regime determined to wipe out his way of life. _He_ hadn’t lost anything except for a few years off his life – and your children, his subconscious reminded him, you lost your children – and even if Obi-wan was… He yanked his mind away from the possibilities with a silent snarl.

“I’m fine, Snips,” he told her, turning back to the X-wing. He was aware, after a few minutes, that Ahsoka hadn’t left. But he didn’t expect the hand that grasped his ankle and _yanked_ him out from under the fighter, sending him skidding across the deck.

“Ahsoka–”

“Don’t lie to me Anakin,” she snapped, her face hard and shoulders tense. “You forget that I know you.”

He had it on the edge of his tongue to say that of course she didn’t know him, how could she? She only spent a few years with him. Only a _child_ would think they could know someone in that time… But he bit his tongue – and his words – and tried to meet the searing blue of her gaze. 

“I will be _fine_ , Ahsoka.”

“But you’re not now. Even with our training bond the way it is, I can tell that you’re _not_ fine.”

“What do you want me to do?” he roared, coming to his feet. Anger seemed to froth in his head, and his words spilled out like embers from a broken fire-grate. “Obi-wan is _gone_ , my wife is over thirty years my senior now, the Jedi Order is all but destroyed, and I missed the first _two decades_ of my children’s lives!” He threw up his hands. “I didn’t even know I _had_ children! I never even knew Padmé was pregnant. I never helped her when she needed it. I never–” He choked, his eyes gritty with tears. 

“But you. I _left_ you, Ahsoka. I left you behind and you’ve had to deal with everything that’s happened since then.” His voice shook. “What if… what if I had stayed? If I never went into that damned stasis pod would none of this have happened?” He waved a hand to encompass the hangar bay. “Would my children be on the run from an Empire that shouldn’t exist?” His arm fell. “How can… how can you even _begin_ to forgive me for that? You needed me and I… I left.”

“ _You idiot_ ,” Ahsoka said, her eyes glinting with tears. “Grief and pain aren’t a _competition_ , Anakin. What you went through isn’t more or less than what I went through or what Padmé went through. It’s just _different_ , and if I deserve solace then _so do you._ ”

She strode forward, determined, and Anakin nearly fell into a defensive stance before he reminded himself that this was _Ahsoka_. She’d never hurt him, she’d–

She pulled him into a hug, Ahsoka’s strong arms wrapping tight around his shoulders. “If you want forgiveness, Skyguy, then I forgive you, but none of this was your fault.”

“I–” he stammered, thrown utterly off kilter, but Ahsoka shook her head.

“No. It’s _not_ your fault. If you have to blame someone then blame that sleemo that took over the Republic. Blame the ones that follow him. But it is not your fault.” She pulled back from the hug to stare at him, her blue eyes pinning him in place. “So I’m going to ask you again. How do you feel?”

He stared at her, his mouth slack and every dismissal he would have otherwise had falling by the wayside. “I–” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Luke and Leia standing at the door to the hangar, their faces a picture in opposites with Luke’s showing his naked grief at Anakin’s words and Leia’s being calm and collected even as the Force shivered with too many emotions for Anakin to place. “Honestly? I’ve been better. Everything’s just… so different from what I know. But I’ll figure it out, Ahsoka, really.”

She eyed him critically, a smile edging at the corner of her mouth. “I mean it, Anakin. You talk to me.”

He smirked. “Shouldn’t I be doing meditation or something? Isn’t that the ‘Jedi way?’”

Ahsoka snorted. “I’m not a Jedi anymore, remember? Besides,” she smiled. “There are other ways. Better ways. Master Yoda’s ways were…”

“Limited,” Leia said, approaching with Luke in tow. “I think the word you’re looking for is limited.”

Ahsoka inclined her head in acknowledgement. “Limited is one way of putting it.” She turned to the twins. “Did you have something?”

Luke stepped forward. “We’ve reached Mustafar. There’s…” He frowned at a data-pad. “I’m not getting any readings from the surface, though there is a facility down there. It might be a trap.”

“It’s a trap,” Leia said, her voice overlapping Luke’s. “Every time the Rebellion has ever tried to get a Force user out of here the planet has at least four star destroyers in orbit and a legion’s worth of troops in the facility alone, and now it’s deserted?” She folded her arms across her chest. “It’s a trap.”

“I agree,” Ahsoka nodded. “The question is how did the Empire know we were coming?”

“You think someone told them?” Luke asked.

Leia shook her head. “That’s not possible. No one knew we were heading here except Mom and the rest of the Rebellion leaders, and none of them would betray us.”

Ahsoka and Anakin glanced at each other. “Are you thinking Draigh?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “If it was Draigh, then how’d he get here ahead of us? No, I think this is something else. It’s obviously a trap, probably meant for us, but are we already caught in it, or can we still escape?”

“If Obi-wan’s down there...” Anakin started.

Ahsoka grimaced. “We can’t leave him, I know.”

“Well, we also can’t come back with more troops,” Leia told them. “Even if the Empire didn’t track us back to the Rebel fleet, we’re still too depleted from the attack on the Death Star to go against the Empire one on one.” She turned to Anakin. “I _am_ sorry, but we can’t risk the whole Rebellion on just one man.”

“I understand.” He looked at Ahsoka. “I can take a shuttle down if you need to leave.”

Luke made an inarticulate sound of protest and Ahsoka raised a brow-marking at Anakin. “If you think I’m letting you walk into this alone, Skyguy,” she said dryly. “Then that stasis pod scrambled your brains more than usual.” She sighed. “But you do raise a point. Luke, why don’t–”

“We’re coming,” Leia said firmly. Beside her, Luke nodded.

Anakin tensed. “This could be a suicide mission, I can’t let you–”

Leia fixed him with a look that reminded him of Padmé at her most stubborn. “ _You_ don’t have much say in the matter. Ahsoka knows as much as we do about the Rebellion so the capture point is moot. Besides,” her mouth stretched into a wry smile. “We are Jedi. We don’t leave anyone behind.”

“Four is better than two,” Luke added. “The Empire will never see us coming.”

Ahsoka looked torn between pride and worry, though Anakin doubted anyone who didn’t know her would notice. “Neither of you have faced Draigh in a fight,” she said. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’d like to have some words with him about Alderaan,” Leia said darkly. 

“It’ll be nice to finally get rid of him,” Luke said. “Before it’s always been just me and him. But with the four of us?” He grinned. “Draigh won’t know what hit him.”

Anakin remembered another fight with another Sith Lord and felt his right hand twitch slightly. “Just remember to stick together,” he warned. “Sith Lords like taking off limbs.”

Silence greeted his pronouncement as Luke looked vaguely uncomfortable and Leia pensive. 

Ahsoka spoke up. “Let’s get the shuttle prepped. I need to debrief Padmé on the possibility of a traitor.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mustafar _burned_. Rivers of lava scorched the landscape, spewing forth from spires of glittering black rock that reached into the sky like claws, forcing Anakin to weave the shuttle around them to avoid detection from the facility ahead. More than once he had to jerk the shuttle upward to avoid a spume of lava that leapt from the surface like a breaching Tatooine sand grub. 

Underneath it all lay the creeping slick of the Dark Side, pressing against their minds like foul-smelling muck. The closer they got to the facility, the more Anakin could feel it pushing at him, trying to pull his mind into despair as the echoes of now-dead Jedi filled the edges of his senses with their screams.

Beside him, Luke released a shuddering breath as his hands tightened on the co-pilot controls. “What is…” he choked.

“It’s the Dark Side,” Ahsoka replied, putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Remember your mother and your childhood on Tatooine. Remember happy things, it makes bearing it easier.”

“Fighting Draigh was never like this,” Luke said.

“Draigh uses rage to fuel his fighting.” Ahsoka’s voice was sad. “This is fear, and despair. Acknowledge it, but don’t let it control you.”

“Right,” Luke exhaled, setting his jaw determinedly. Behind him, Leia was staring fixedly at the navigation console, her eyes glinting with unshed tears. 

As Anakin looked, she turned to face his gaze, the fire in her eyes daring him to say anything. But he remembered a night of blood-soaked Tatooine sands, so he merely gave her a nod and turned back to the business of flying.

The facility, when they finally reached it, was outwardly abandoned, the lone landing pad bereft of even refueling pods for any landing ships. It was built into a mountain, protected from the surrounding lava by shield emitters that jutted out over the fiery river.

“It looks like an old Techno Union installation,” Ahsoka said, leaning over Anakin’s shoulder to peer through the viewport. “They must have used it for mining before the end of the Clone Wars.”

Anakin circled the facility once, to scan for any ambush, before he set the shuttle down to the side of the landing pad and steeled himself to open the door. Behind him, Ahsoka, Luke, and even Leia were affixing lightsabers to their belts, though Leia handled hers with a slight hesitancy, as if she hadn’t used one in a long while. At Ahsoka’s nod, Anakin activated the door controls and stepped out into the hellish gloom.

Winds, hotter than Tatooine’s sands ever managed, buffeted him the second he emerged from the shuttle, snatching at his robes and drying the inside of his nose and mouth. Even with the shields surrounding the facility, caustic gasses danced past his face, setting his eyes watering until he pulled the Force around him to protect him. He could feel Ahsoka doing the same, but Luke and Leia were beginning to falter already under the dual hammer blows of the environment and the aura of the Dark Side that hung densely over the entire compound. 

“Here,” he said, turning to Leia and showing her how he’d pulled his shields around himself (and feeling Ahsoka do the same for Luke). “This will help.”

“You’re not going to tell me my emotions aren’t controlled enough?” she muttered bitterly, yanking at the Force. “That I need to ‘let them flow through me?’” She swore as a blast of heat slapped her across the face, crisping her eyebrows.

“No.” Anakin pulled a shield around her himself, holding it in the Force until she reached out to lend it her own strength, though it took a few tries. “I was never good at that myself, anyways. It always felt like a storm to me.” He let go of the shield, smiling faintly as it wavered but held. “Come on.”

She didn’t move. “So how’d you fix it?”

He shook his head. “It’s not something that get’s _fixed_ , it’s…” He huffed. “Emotions like that are a storm. The storm can destroy you if you let it. But if you remember that you’re not _just_ the storm, then it’s easier.”

“Not _just_ the storm?”

“...You lived on Tatooine, right? When you were younger?” Anakin asked.

Leia nodded.

“Do you remember the sandstorms? The way they’d pick everything up and destroy it?”

She nodded again.

“Negative emotions are like those sandstorms. They’ll pick you up and tear you to pieces if you let them. But no matter how bad the storm got, the desert was always the desert. The storm only changed the surface.

“You’re the desert, not the storm. Your emotions may change on the surface. They may even try to destroy everything they touch, but they’re still a part of you. Trying to ignore it...it doesn’t turn out well.” He laughed. “Of course, remembering that isn’t always _easy._ Even I have problems with it still.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s an ongoing process, I’m afraid. You’ll never get it on the first try, or even the hundredth. Just remember to keep trying.” He started across the landing pad towards the door of the facility where Ahsoka and Luke were waiting.

“When did you come up with this?” Leia asked, trotting to keep up.

“Part of it was during the Clone Wars, though I’ve never said it aloud before.” He grimaced. “I’ve had to think about a lot of things lately.”

The facility loomed forebodingly above them, the ruddy light from the lava flows only barely catching the edges of the building, leaving long shadows behind. Artoo was working on the security panel by the door, his interface arm whirring and clicking away as he slogged through the locks and traps that prevented the door from opening. 

Ahsoka scanned the sky, her mouth pursed into a frown. 

“You have something, Snips?” Anakin asked.

She shook her head. “Nothing concrete. Just a feeling.” Her frown deepened. “Once we’re inside, we should have Artoo watch the ship. We may need to make a quick getaway.”

Artoo let out a triumphant burble, and the facility doors slid open just enough to leave a meter-wide gap, beyond which, darkness waited.

Anakin was the first through the doors, his lightsaber casting a pale glow on the dark, metal walls. Behind him, Ahsoka, Luke, and Leia followed, their own lightsabers lit. But even their combined light failed to advance farther than a few steps beyond Anakin, and the corridor yawned before them, the Dark Side oozing from every direction.

Anakin repressed a shudder of nausea and stepped firmly but cautiously forward, his senses outstretched – despite the creeping chill of the Dark Side – for anything that might leap out to attack them. 

Nothing did.

Eventually they reached a door, set flush into the wall, that slid open even before Anakin could reach for the controls. Flames in wall sconces flared to life as he walked through, rippling outward from the door until the entire room was lit at the edges with a bloody glow that bounced off of a polished floor and against rounded columns that reminded him of…

Anakin stiffened, and heard Ahsoka gasp beside him as he took in what was unmistakably a Dark Side mockery of the main training hall in the Jedi Temple. Columns bisected the space, reaching toward an arched, high ceiling while mats were laid out to form individual training salles, separated only by a thin walkway between each one. But where the Temple’s training hall was a gleaming edifice of white stone and spotlessly clean mats, stretching hundreds of meters to a wall of open windows that opened on the skyline of Coruscant, this training room was shadowed and Dark, lit only by blood-red flames that flickered and caught on ugly stains on the mats and gashes in the walls, columns, and floor. 

He stopped by one such gash, a charred streak even longer than his arm that sliced along a column from the height of his shoulder to his hip, and leaned in to examine it before he noticed the greasy stain on the floor directly beneath. The Force roiled, a distant, agonized scream echoing in his head almost like he heard it through thick glass, and Anakin flinched away from the punch of emotions that tried to follow.

“Stick close,” he said hoarsely, his tongue catching in his throat. “There may be traps.”

Ahsoka’s face was hard, her mouth pinched in grief and anger. “How many Jedi died here?” she asked. “How many were left to this… hell?”

“Only the weak die in the fire, Lady Tano,” a hissing voice echoed in the hall. “The strong lose their imperfections to the Crucible and join the Empire as their most perfect forms.”

There, at the center of the hall, a patch of shadow moved, turning towards them until flames were reflected on a blank ovoid faceplate. Now Anakin could hear the wheeze of a life-support unit, the rhythmic inhale-exhale whirring like the beat of a tortured heart.

“Draigh,” Leia spat, stepping up beside him

“Hello Princess,” the Sith crooned. “Here for the initiation?”

Anakin stepped forward, flicking his lightsaber in front of his daughter to catch Draigh’s attention. “What do you want, Sith?”

“Ahhh…. Skywalker,” Draigh rasped. “My Master would speak with you. He is overjoyed at seeing an old friend among the living once more.” A bone-chilling rattle came from Draigh’s throat, and Anakin realized with a shudder that the Sith was actually… laughing.

“And little Skywalker too. Isn’t this a party?”

“Enough games,” Ahsoka said, her voice strong enough to echo in the far corners of the hall. “You’re out-numbered, Draigh. Stand aside.”

The faceplate tilted. “I think not. My master would be loath to lose any of you to such inconsequential pursuits as the Rebellion.” The faceplate shifted towards Anakin. “You would throw in your lot with traitors such as these, Skywalker? They fight against the rule of Law, against the proper order of things. Even your own wife fights against the true and ordained leader of this Empire. But then again,” Draigh wheezed in triumph. “We always knew _Padmé Amidala_ was always a hypocrite at best.”

Leia stiffened, Luke cursed, and even Ahsoka’s ready stance faltered slightly.

“Yes, we know who ‘Starbird’ is,” Draigh sneered. “As if you could ever hide anything from my master for long.” He looked at Anakin again. “They will betray you, Skywalker, these false friends of yours. Look at how long it took for them to even find you.” Grating laughter clattered against the columns. “Do you really think they’ll _accept_ you? Just like that?”

“Shut up,” Anakin snarled, his hands tightening on his saber.”

“My master was the only one looking for you when the Jedi stopped. They left you for dead, did you know that? Why should you continue to give them your loyalty when they would _betray_ _you_? My master was searching for you. He wouldn’t rest until he’d found you and kept you _safe_. He always supported you, always–”

Draigh’s voice droned on, his sibilant tones pressing into Anakin’s head and sinking tiny claws into his thoughts, picking at his convictions, his hopes, his fears, picking, picking, picking, _pick_ –

“You lie!”

Leia’s shout rang clear as a bell as she rushed forward, lightsaber drawn, and charged at Draigh with a look of fierce determination. 

Anakin started, the fog in his mind clearing as if it had never been. Beside him, he could see Luke and Ahsoka jerking to wakefulness as well, their gazes abruptly turning to focus on Draigh and Leia.

Draigh laughed as Leia ran towards him, slipping his lightsaber out from under his cloak with almost leisurely deliberation, and setting the handle in a ready stance before igniting the red blade just as Leia’s lightsaber came down towards his faceplate.

“Leia!” Luke shouted, and darted forward, lightsaber raised in defense of his sister.

Draigh batted away Luke’s initial lunge with ease, his saber flickering back and forth as brother and sister attacked from opposite sides.

_It won’t be enough_ , Anakin thought as he ran towards the fight, Ahsoka following close behind. _He’s toying with them_.

Luke’s lightsaber swung close to Draigh’s shoulder, followed by Leia’s at his hip, but the Sith reached out with his hand and _pushed_ …

Anakin cursed as the Dark Side suddenly surged, its boiling energy coagulating around Draigh’s outstretched hand as he threw Leia into a nearby pillar. As if he heard him, Draigh’s head swung towards Anakin, and he got the sudden impression of a flash of teeth in a fanged smile before the Sith reversed his lightsaber grip mid-swing and thrust it at Luke’s unprotected stomach.

Anakin reached out and _pulled_ , smiling in grim satisfaction as Luke abruptly skidded across the floor away from Draigh’s attempted deathblow. With another reach towards the Force, he shoved himself through the air towards Draigh in a fashion that probably would have left Obi-wan nearly livid with frustration, but it left him between his stunned son – still picking himself off the floor – and Draigh.

“How about you fight who you came here for, Sith?” Anakin grinned.

Draigh twirled his saber in his hand before flicking it into the opening form of… _was that vaapad?_ Anakin wondered.

Anakin ducked Draigh’s first swing, though the tail ends of his hair crisped from the heat of the saber as it passed by his face. The next two he managed to deflect with his lightsaber, but Draigh kept pushing, his strikes wild, unpredictable, flashy, and yet too skilled for the style to be anything but a deliberate choice.

He let Draigh push – and push and push – until they were pressed against the great wall of floor-to-ceiling transparisteel that separated the training hall from the nightmarish vista outside. Draigh’s swings were even wilder now, his frustration evident in every attack that slid off Anakin’s saber or was avoided through the Force.

_I was trained by Obi-wan Kenobi and the best Knights and Masters of the Order,_ Anakin didn’t say aloud, though he couldn’t quite keep the expression from his face. _If you think you can get through_ my _defense, then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought._ Distantly, he could hear and see Ahsoka, Leia, and Luke hovering on the edges of the fight, but Ahsoka was keeping the twins back – much to Anakin’s relief – her gaze locked on Anakin’s and Draigh’s clashing red and blue lightsabers.

It was that moment of distraction that cost him, as one of Draigh’s seemingly-wild thrusts managed to bounce over Anakin’s parry and sank into his shoulder. Anakin screamed, first from the pain of seared flesh and second from the remembered pain in his right hand where flesh met durasteel.

Draigh pressed his advantage, his blank faceplate cold and merciless as his lightsaber bore down towards Anakin’s face where he’d stumbled against the wall. Anakin snarled, but the fingers of his right hand wouldn’t comply, the synth-leather covered digits twitching against the hilt of his lightsaber. He moved to twist away from the red saber, but Draigh planted a metal boot on Anakin’s chest and pressed down, raising his lightsaber to stab Anakin through his head.

“Skywalker,” Draigh gloated. “I have to say, I’m not impressed. Everything your master said about you, and I best you in _one_ try.”

There was a shout, and a brilliantly green lightsaber slid into Anakin’s field of view, clashing against Draigh’s red saber in a shower of sparks.

“Get off him!” Luke shoved Draigh’s saber aside even as hands gripped Anakin under his arms and _pulled_ , sending him skidding across the floor.

Ahsoka hauled him upright, brushing off dust from his shoulders as he straightened, her eyes dark with worry. He gave her a tight smile to commiserate, but quickly yanked his lightsaber to him and turned to rejoin the fray.

Luke was holding his own this time, his movements more focused on defense than offense, though Anakin winced as each pass of Draigh’s came close enough to singe the edges of his son’s hair. Leia was standing behind Draigh, harrying him with a ferocious flurry of attacks every time his attention turned too much towards her brother.

“–akin, _Anakin_ ,” Ahsoka said, with the tone of someone who’d been repeating the same word for a while. 

“Not now, Ahsoka, I have to–”

She grabbed his arm, sinking her nails into his bicep to keep him there. “It’s about Obi-wan.”

Anakin’s gaze snapped, lighting fast, to his former padawan. “What about Obi-wan.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “He’s not here. I managed to get a spike into the system. There’s not much, but I was able to find some…” She swallowed, her mouth wrinkling with distaste. “Experiment records. They’re fairly comprehensive, but…” She shook her head. “Obi-wan isn’t in here.”

“Not in h–” Anakin’s stomach dropped. “Draigh. He’s stalling for time. He knew we’d come here.”

Ahsoka nodded. “Agreed. And trust me, when I find that leak, there will be hell to pay. But we can’t keep fighting him, the Imperials will be here any minute.”

“I’m _trying_ , Snips,” Anakin grumbled.

“I know, but we need to–”

Luke screamed.

Anakin _moved_ , his head snapping around and his lightsaber igniting before even the first echoes of the scream had died. He saw Luke on the ground, his right hand clutching the charred stump of his left hand, and Leia standing between Luke and Draigh, her lightsaber raised in a mid-level block and every line in her body focused on her opponent.

Anakin watched as Draigh’s saber came down and Leia’s went up to meet it. He watched as Draigh slid his saber around Leia’s block with the same wiggle that had landed Anakin with a blade through his shoulder. He watched as he was too slow, _too slow_ to intervene as the nightmare-red saber slid through bone, muscle, and sinew, leaving Leia staring in shock at the lump of flesh that used to be her right forearm.

“Draigh!” Anakin roared, fury pulsing in his blood. The Force churned around him, still waters suddenly turned to storm-tossed foam.

The Sith paused, his saber hovering near Leia’s unprotected neck, and turned to stare at Anakin. His helmeted head tilted consideringly, and after less than a minute of deliberation, he stepped around Leia and started towards Anakin, red saber held at the ready. 

Anakin shuddered as he caught a flash of manic glee from Draigh’s advance, but the combined maelstrom of his anger, rage, disappointment, and yes, fear, pulled him forward until he was nearly running.

They met in a clash of sabers and the smell of charred marble.

Anakin slammed his blade against Draigh’s again and again, everything he ever learned about fighting, about _strategy_ , flattened under the sheer weight of his anger and worry. Yet even without Anakin’s usual finesse, Draigh still faltered under the rain of blows, his lightsaber faltering against the power of Anakin’s uncoordinated attack.

He drove Draigh away, step by step, until the Sith was striking sparks from the transparisteel window with every parry and block. Behind him, Luke and Leia lay too still, _too still_ , even with Ahsoka’s hands on their brows, and Anakin’s steps faltered.

Draigh snarled and _shoved_ , sending Anakin flying across the room until his back hit a marble column with a sickening crack, and his lightsaber dropped from nerveless hands.

“Weak, Skywalker.” Draigh sneered, stalking forward. “You’re _weak_. You can’t even harness your anger properly.” He made to kick Anakin’s saber away, but Anakin thrust out with his own foot, snarling the other man’s kick and nearly sending Draigh toppling to the ground. 

Draigh leapt away with a hiss, landing with his legs bent at unnatural angles like an insect. Anakin flipped himself up off the ground, yanking his saber to him with the Force, and charged the Sith again with an upwards stroke meant to cleave him from navel to jaw.

“Am I, Sith?” Anakin spat over the clash of their crossed sabers. “Am I really?”

“The amount of power you have at your fingertips,” Draigh said, thrusting his lightsaber at Anakin’s ribs, “and you squander it on these weak-willed fools.”

Anakin angled his saber at Draigh’s faceplate. “I protect my own. Unlike you. Where’s your master now, Draigh? Why isn’t he here to help you?”

“My master,” Draigh seethed. “Has other matters to attend to then vermin like you. He has charged me to bring him your head.” His voice shifted in satisfaction. “The limbs of your children are just a bonus.”

Anakin kicked at Draigh’s knee, cursing when the heel of his boot bounced off durasteel, and staggered back, his lightsaber raised in a block before him. “You won’t touch them again,” he spat. “So long as I live, _you will never touch them again._ ”

Draigh’s glee sharpened in the Force. “But if you’re protecting them, Jedi, then who protects you? Who protects your precious Master?”

Anakin froze, his breaths echoing harshly in the silent hall. “What?”

“Did you really think Kenobi was here?” Draigh laughed. “That my master wouldn’t be caring for him _personally_?”

Anakin leapt at him. “You’re lying!”

“Am I?” Draigh blocked Anakin’s swing. “Search your feelings, Jedi. You know where your Master is. You’ve always known where your Master is.” He leaned in close, his head in the ‘v’ of the lightsabers meeting. “And now you’ll die, knowing nothing you do will _ever_ save him.”

He thrust his hand in between the crossed lightsabers, palm outstretched towards Anakin’s face and _pushed_. Anakin staggered back, his mind reeling, and Draigh pushed his advantage, sweeping his red blade around Anakin’s blue and slicing through the durasteel struts and ligaments of Anakin’s prosthetic hand, leaving behind a sparking, charred mess.

Anakin cried out, the feedback from his hand sparking through his mind and dropping him to his knees. Draigh circled around him, each heavy step a distant thud against the pain of nerves re-severed. 

From somewhere else, he could hear Ahsoka crying out, could feel the faint wash of her emotions in the Force, but they faded quickly when a cold, implacable hand closed about his throat and lifted him into the air.

“Now Skywalker,” Draigh crooned, the vents of his facemask blowing warm, stale air against Anakin’s throat. “I will take your lifeless corpse back to my master, so he can show the Empire the failed hope of the Rebellion. I will take your children and break them until they never even _think_ to question my master’s call. Your apprentice…” He laughed, his vocoder rattling. “Oh dear Lady Tano. Her I will imprison, trapped in darkness and silence, with only the lists of the endless dead for company. Then… then my master will _finally_ let me kill Kenobi, just as I should have done on Naboo those many years ago.”

“You weren’t on Naboo,” Anakin blurted out, his thoughts racing. “The only Sith on Naboo was…”

Draigh’s hand pressed at a hidden release underneath his ovoid faceplate. With a hiss, and the acrid smell of raw cybernetics, the faceplate slid back, revealing a ruined red and black visage. Scars chased their way across his face, splitting the red and black markings like coiled lightning, while open sores oozed faintly in the dim orange light from the lava outside.

“Maul,” Anakin breathed. “You’re supposed to be dead. Obi-wan killed you.”

Maul bared his teeth. “He _failed_. Like he always _fails_. My master found me. He… reacquired me. He made me _stronger._ Strong enough to fulfill his work, and I _will_ fulfill his work, Jedi. You can be sure of that.”

Anakin looked over Maul’s ravaged face, the jagged red and black tattoos that bled into stained and crusted cybernetics. Part of his skin was an ill-structured nano-weave that stretched over Maul’s left cheekbone all the way up and into his eye socket, where a gold-lensed cybernetic eye rested, staring wildly out from sunken flesh. Something, or someone, had taken the horned Sith apart and put him back together again, without caring about the results.

Now that the faceplate was open, Anakin could smell the faint stench of decay, overlaid by stale sweat and the sharp tang of oil. Maul’s golden eyes – flesh and cybernetic alike – were burning with hatred in a sepulchral face and his teeth were bared in a rictus of anger. 

He pressed harder against Anakin’s throat. “Like what you see, Jedi?”

Anakin choked, the fingers of his left hand scrabbling against Maul’s iron grip. He could feel his vision clouding, the bones and cartilage of his throat buckling under the pressure, and even the tips of his toes dangling as Maul hoisted him higher against the column.

“You will die, Skywalker,” Maul was saying. “And because of your weakness, _everyone_ you love will die with you. I will personally attend to slicing their bodies to–”

Anakin dropped, landing hard on his knees as air rushed into his lungs. His right arm, flung out to brace him as though he still had his prosthesis, crumpled under the sudden pressure of his weight, toppling him to the floor. As his vision returned, he could see twin, white sabers battling furiously against one red. 

Ahsoka had Maul on the defensive, his movements slowed by the lack of oxygen from his open faceplate. It was all the Sith could do to keep Ahsoka away from him, Anakin realized, watching the red lightsaber frantically flick away a strike from one side only to reverse and defend against a strike from the other. Anakin pushed himself to his knees, grimacing as his abused airway protested.

Ahsoka and Maul had almost fought all the way back to the transparisteel window, but Anakin could see that for all Ahsoka’s skill, Maul was wearing her down. _He’ll wait for her to get tired and then he’ll strike,_ Anakin judged. _Even with that open faceplate slowing him down, he’s too strong for any of us alone._ He eyed the transparisteel window thoughtfully.

“Come on Skywalker, get up.” he rasped, wincing from the pain. His legs were unsteady, but they held, and his lightsaber was thankfully close enough to be called with the Force. With one eye on the fight, he limped over to where Luke and Leia lay. Luke was unconscious, curled around the stump of his left hand, but Leia managed to meet Anakin’s gaze, her eyes dark with pain.

“Leia, I’m–”

“Don’t apologize,” she snapped through clenched teeth. “Just _kill_ this bastard.”

“That’s the idea,” Anakin replied, helping her into a sitting position facing the window. “But I need your help.”

She listened to his explanation, frowning thoughtfully. When he had finished she glanced around him to eye the fight happening at the far side of the hall, then nodded. “If you can get Maul in place, I can provide the push.”

“You sure you’re up for it?”

She gave him a withering glance. “If I could escape the Death Star after they destroyed Alderaan, then I can do this. Go.”

Anakin stood and made his way to the transparisteel window. It was thick, made to withstand the heat and any rogue lava flows the surface of Mustafar could throw at it. But even transparisteel, when faced with extreme heat on one side and conflicting uses of the Force on the other, would begin to warp.

Possibly it might even begin to crack.

He walked the length of the wall, carefully feeling the transparisteel with the Force while keeping an eye on Ahsoka. About 20 meters from where Leia sat, he found a likely spot and set about probing it with his mind, hoping to make the stress fissures wider even as he flashed a series of hand signals at Ahsoka with his left hand and hoped she’d catch them in time.

_Draw here_ , he signed. _Weakness_. _Enemy. Fall._

Ahsoka started pushing Maul toward Anakin almost immediately, her sabers working to keep Maul facing away from Anakin even as he was backed into him. Once Maul was close enough, Anakin pounced. He threw all his anger, his pain, his bittersweet joy, his love – every emotion he could find, he pulled together and threw into the Force – and reached out with his left hand.

Maul flew through the air towards Anakin like a crumpled cloak, his limbs flailing against the sudden motion change. Anakin side-stepped as Maul got close enough to hit him, watching as the Sith hit the floor and slid until he slammed into the transparisteel and collapsed into a heap.

His left hand still outstretched, Anakin pressed Maul against the transparisteel, yanking him up with the Force until he could hear the transparisteel start to crack under the strain.

“Where is Obi-wan, Maul?” Anakin snarled. “ _Tell me._ ”

Maul laughed through bloodied teeth. “No.”

Anakin’s left hand flexed. For just an instant, he could almost feel the brush of leather and metal beneath his fingertips through the Force.

“Pity,” he said. “You might have lived a few minutes longer.”

He felt the cool strength of Leia in the Force, felt a pressure slide past him that made his ears pop, and then… nothing. He relaxed his hand, letting Maul’s feet touch the floor, and then, with the speed of a striking Krayt dragon, he leaned back, lashed out with his foot, and kicked Maul in the chest. There was an instant of nothing, of silence, then the transparisteel – weakened by Anakin and cracked by Leia – shattered under the pressure of Maul’s back. Heat rushed into the room like hellfire, and Maul tumbled out through the gap in the transparisteel and plummeted out of sight into the lava below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin found Ahsoka curled up in the pilot’s chair in the _Stormfist_ ’s cockpit, one of her lekku bandaged and her shoulders hunched over a datapad that rested in her lap. At the scuff of his foot on the floor, she turned.

“Hey,” she said, with a significant glance at his empty sleeve. “Shouldn’t you be resting that?”

He eased himself into the co-pilot chair, propping his right arm on his stomach as he leaned back. “Don’t have the tools to fix it on this ship. I was hoping the _Endurance_ might have some.”

“They probably will. Or you can requisition some from one of the medi-ships.”

Anakin sighed. “You call Padmé yet?”

“I… no.” Ahsoka glanced away. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

She grimaced. “How do I tell Padmé that Luke _and_ Leia were both injured, badly I might add, while on my watch? Luke was my _apprentice_. How could I let this happen?”

“It wasn’t your fault, Snips. We couldn’t know that Maul would be there.”

“But we _did_ know it would be a trap!” She turned away. “I knew it would be a trap, and I still let them come.”

“Way I remember it,” Anakin told her. “Luke and Leia volunteered themselves. I may not like it much either, but I don’t think we could have stopped them.” He grimaced at her glare. “Trust me, Ahsoka, what happened to Luke and Leia, I….” He sighed, glancing down at his right arm. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. They’ll have a long road before they can recover from this.” He chuckled. “At least they’ll have better prosthetics than I did. I had to design mine.”

“If you want,” he told her. “I’ll tell Padmé. We need to get the Rebellion looking for Obi-wan again anyways.”

“Did Drai– did Maul tell you anything?” Ahsoka asked. “When he was...you know.”

“When he was choking me, you mean?” 

She nodded.

Anakin shook his head. “No. Nothing we didn’t already know. Just that Sidious has Obi-wan.” His mind stuttered on what else Maul had told him, but he bit his tongue and stayed quiet, hoping Ahsoka wouldn’t notice.

She sighed and turned back to the console, her fingers working over the controls and pushing a few buttons. “You realize, they’re going to want to see the body.”

Anakin snorted. “Then they can go fish it out of a lava flow. _We_ needed to get Luke and Leia back to the med-bay.”

“I know that,” Ahsoka replied. “But it may still cause trouble.”

“I’ll deal with it when we get there,” Anakin said, fishing behind him for the hood of his cloak and pulling it up over his face. “Wake me when that happens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> And thanks be to [fialleril](http://fialleril.tumblr.com/) for allowing me to borrow some of her insights into the Force.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	10. Where do we draw the line?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TURMOIL AT OSSUS! With the Galactic Civil War beginning to turn against the Republic, General Ahsoka Tano and the 501st have been sent to the planet of Ossus as part of a dangerous and reckless plan to turn the tide of the war. Situated on the eastern edge of the Republic strike force, the 501st has been tasked with securing a convergence of canyons in order to prepare for a massive push from Republic forces.
> 
> However, with inaccurate intel from GAR High Command, Ahsoka and her troopers find themselves being driven back by overwhelming Separatist forces, leaving them trapped at a crossroads...

_Ossus, Adega System, Outer Rim Territories; 2.75 years after the Battle of Geonosis_

Wind swept the arid gorges of Ossus, bringing the stink of hot metal and mortar fire to Ahsoka’s nose as she and Rex crouched precariously on a cliffside trail overlooking the Separatist army. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, but carefully inched back to where Rex was waiting.

“I count two regiments of droids,” she said, “but I doubt that’s all of them.”

Rex snorted, peering down into the canyon through his helmet’s visor. “Considering they’re not supposed to be there at all?” He looked over the lines of droids below them. “Definitely too many clankers.”

“Can we hold?” she asked him.

Rex’s hands twitched on the grips of his blasters. “Our count so far is almost six legions worth, General. Even with the canyons forcing them into a bottleneck, we’ll still have Seppies coming from too many directions.”

She sighed, her lips twitching into a grimace. “Of all the times for Intel to flake out on us…”

“We’ll make it, General. We always do.”

She raised a brow-marking at him. “That was before. This is now.” Feeling Rex’s muted disapproval in the Force she grimaced again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant this is the first time we’ve fought in an engagement since you took the chips out and started…” she hesitated. “I’m not questioning your skills, Rex, but you _are_ still fighting for the people that put control chips in you. I’m just wondering if–”

Rex removed his helmet, setting it by the canyon wall, away from the cliff edge and looked her steadily in the eye. “We aren’t doing this for the Council. The 501st follows you and only you.”

“No pressure,” Ahsoka muttered, but she tossed a smile at him.

He grinned back. “If it were easy, kid, we wouldn’t be here.”

“You don’t have to be, you know,” she told him. “With the chips gone, you could leave like–”

“They aren’t me.” The look on his face dared her to argue. “The 501st doesn’t leave anyone behind, and that includes you, General.”

Silence stretched between them, interrupted only by the whistling of the canyon winds and the mechanical creaking of the droids below.

Ahsoka’s comlink started blinking.

Rex frowned at it. “Saber’s early. We aren’t due to check back for another twenty minutes.”

“Maybe one of the scouts came back early?”

“Unless it’s General Grievous himself out there, we’re on radio silence until–” he paused, his head whipping around to stare down the canyon back towards their encampments.

Seconds later, Ahsoka could hear it too, the faint _whumph, whumph_ of incoming mortar fire. She scrambled to her feet. “It’s back at the southeast canyons.”

Rex nodded, slipping on his helmet. “Time to move.”

They crept back down the trail, taking care not to attract the attention of the battle droids below them. But as soon as they had ground wide enough to run on, they bolted, making a beeline for the speeders that brought them there.

The sentries signaled the outer line of tanks as they swept through, letting Rex and Ahsoka slide between a gap in the perimeter that had opened for them. They reached the makeshift ops center shortly thereafter and Ahsoka skidded the speeder to a stop, vaulting off and sprinting towards the men clustered around the holo-table before the vehicle had even stopped moving.

“Report.”

Kase, a recent transfer, was the first to respond. “We have tanks and heavy cannons bombarding the troops in the southeastern canyons. They’re holding for now, but scouts are reporting movement in the eastern and southern canyons around the fighting. We may have to deal with multiple lines of attack.”

“How many before we’re stretched too thin?”

“Four or five, six tops. But if we want to keep the north-south canyons open for the 41st when they come through, we’re going to start having problems at three.”

Saber, standing across the holo-table from Ahsoka, grunted. “The Separatists know this is their weak spot. They’ll send everything at us.”

Ahsoka stared at the holo-table, her gaze flicking over the grainy, blue map of the terrain and the green and red markers of Republic and Separatist forces. She pointed to the places where several canyons conjoined. “What would it take to close everything but the route needed for Master Unduli?”

“If we close the canyons, we could trap ourselves inside,” Kase said, his tone considering. “We’ll do no good to General Unduli and the 41st if we’re surrounded by Separatists.”

“We’re do no good if there’s _only_ Separatists when the 41st comes through,” a clone medic muttered from behind the holo-table, where he was patching up wounded.

Ahsoka pointed at several clusters of canyon junctures that had branches leading back to the 501st’s encampments. “Captain Saber, could Torrent Company collapse the canyon walls at these points?”

Saber leaned in to examine them. “Not with the battle lines being where they are right now. I see what you’re going for, sir, but we’ll be too exposed that far in.”

Ahsoka tilted her head. “And if you weren’t exposed?”

The men around the table all turned to look at her. “Sir?” Kase asked.

She pointed at the canyons around them on the map. “If we don’t bottleneck these clankers, they’ll wipe us out, as well as any chance Master Plo has to move up and take the Separatist base.”

“You have a plan, General?” Rex asked.

“The Seppies want to make us chase them, to take off the pressure on the other canyons and make it easier to sweep in and take our place.” She looked around the table, a slight edge of nervousness in her voice, though only a few of the men there knew her enough to notice. “So instead we increase the pressure. We engage on all lines of attack and expand outward. With the canyons, the droids can’t spread out and around us. And if we do this for every canyon, the clankers can’t tell which way we’re going to go.”

The men glanced at each other. “We can’t sustain that strategy indefinitely, General,” Kase said, frowning.

She shook her head. “All we need is to hold until Saber’s troops place their explosives.” She looked inquisitively at Saber. “I can give you two hours worth of cover.”

Saber studied the holo-map. “That’ll be enough. My men can take the scouting trails, shouldn’t take more than two hours.”

The rest of the men were silent, glancing between themselves and the holomap.

“After the charges are placed, pull everyone back.” Kase suggested. “Make them chase us.”

A few of the other clones nodded, but Ahsoka waited until after Rex met her eyes before she called out, “Done. Prep your men, Captain Saber, we move when you’re ready. Rex? You’ll coordinate from here. I’ll be in the southeast. Once Saber gives the signal, I want the tanks and heavy cannons to form a perimeter in the center around the ops center, blocking off the north-south canyons. If we time this right, we should take a lot of clankers with us when we blow the canyons.”

The men all nodded approvingly as they left, though Ahsoka could still feel the undercurrent of worry permeating the Force. 

“I’m sorry Rex,” Ahsoka said in an undertone once the area around the holo-table as mostly empty. “I know you prefer to be at the front but I–”

“I’m most effective here,” Rex said. “I understand, sir.”

She frowned. “I didn’t mean to just order you without telling you first but–”

“Ahsoka,” Rex smiled. “I trust your judgment.”

She grinned ruefully back. “I’m not exactly the youngling I was on Christophsis, am I?”

“As I recall, you were definitely a padawan at the time.”

She chuckled. “Force, I was such a brat.”

Rex’s smile turned somber. “Not a brat, just young.”

“I’m older than you,” she said, eyeing him out of the corner of her eye. 

He shrugged. “Still not sure you should have been out there. But you’ve held your own, General.” A particularly loud explosion echoed down the canyon towards them and he nodded at her. “Time to go.”

“Keep me apprised,” she replied as she walked to the speeder and vaulted onto the back. “If there’s any problems, let me know.”

“Understood,” he nodded. “Go.”

The southeastern canyons were a haze of rock dust and mortar smoke that clung to the back of Ahsoka’s throat in a dusty film that left her dry and choking. Red and green blaster bolts lit up the murk, throwing shadows of looming rocks and oncoming battle droids everywhere.

Ahsoka threw herself into the fray, sabers whirling, and batted blaster bolts back at the droids until she was at the front, guarding the firing line behind her by standing in the middle of the canyon.

Seeing her green sabers flashing in front of them, the troopers renewed their firing with a vengeance, and more and more droids went down until there was a gap twenty meters wide between her and the closest line of battle droids.

She bared her teeth at them, and before her men could rally behind her, she leapt forward into the mass of metal, her lightsabers carving through droid parts like a hot knife through butter, or well… a lightsaber through anything but cortosis. Soon enough, the ground around her was littered with the smoking wrecks of battle droids, super battle droids, and even a few droidekas, and the clones behind her had managed to remove their wounded, shore up their defenses, and return fire with a cool vindictiveness that belied their training.

Her comlink beeped at her, and she brushed her hand over it while cleaving a super battle droid in two. “Yes?”

“We’re secure, General,” the voice on the other side said, “come on back. We’ll need you for the push.”

“Understood,” Ahsoka responded. She backflipped off the broken shell of the super battle droid she’d sliced and quickly, but surely, made her way back to the front line of the troopers behind her. 

The droids didn’t follow.

The battalion captain, a scarred clone named Sides, nodded as she drew close. “My thanks for the save, General,” he said. “They brought in too many destroyer droids too fast. I guess they really wanted to break through.”

“You’ve been briefed on the plan?” she asked.

Sides nodded. “Push out then pull back. I’ve got the heavy guns and tanks on standby. We’ll be ready to move once the Torrent boys are done.”

Ahsoka grinned in the middle of wiping droid lubricant off her lekku. “Meanwhile we teach those tinnies what happens when they try to push at us.”

The men around her roared their approval, and Ahsoka caught several highly improbably anatomical suggestions of what the droids could do with their various limbs, but she ignored the language and concentrated on meeting the eye of every clone she could, grinning all the while.

One of the troopers back at the front shouted a warning, and Ahsoka turned and hurtled back to her position, making sure to keep herself and her sabers between the bulk of the blaster bolts and the men behind her. 

The droids didn’t try to advance again, just stayed in an immobile firing line that shot at them from a distance, trying their hardest to kill or injure Ahsoka herself. But with the ease of long practice, she deflected most of the bolts back at their owners, ricocheting the others off the walls of the canyon. The sound was almost soothing, in a way, if she didn’t think about what it came from or what it was meant for. But she kept her attention sharp, waiting for the chirping signal that meant it was time to push forward.

She kept her comlink open to the command channel, ignoring how the sound faded in and out as her hands moved her sabers around, But she heard quite clearly when Rex gave the order to advance, and she stepped forward to the droids at a measured pace, secure in the knowledge that behind her were about two hundred highly trained soldiers, all pushing with her.

The droids didn’t react, at first, to their advance. They simply stayed put as if disbelieving that anyone would advance on their nearly unassailable position. With a Jedi at the fore, however, the tide turned obviously in the Republic’s favor, a fact that the droids slowly realized once Ahsoka was close enough to close with the droids in hand-to-hand combat.

“Commandos!” Sides yelled to her left, and Ahsoka resettled her attention on the wave coming towards them. Commando droids, lithe, flexible battle droid units meant to kill Jedi, were nothing to underestimate. But as they approached close enough to strike, Ahsoka fell into the rhythm she always used with the men of the 501st. She maneuvered the droids until they had to come within range of her sabers, and then the clones’ superior firearms capability would shoot the droids down like so much rusted scrap.

She only ran into trouble when a group of three commando droids rushed her at once, vibroblades clutched in their mechanical hands. One managed to land a blow to her montrals that knocked her slightly silly, but she quickly shoved it aside lashed out with her shoto blade, scoring a deep gash on the droid's faceplate, leaving behind a sparking mess.

Her comlink chimed again, with Rex’s calm voice ordering all units to pull back. Several detonators flew past her head, sending pulses of electricity into the mass of droids, dropping them in their tracks. She flashed a quick hand signal for more detonators, and pushed the next volley with the Force until they flew deep into the enemy ranks, sending more droids crashing to the ground.

With more breathing room between her and the battle droids, Ahsoka turned and followed her men, keeping her sabers moving and her senses open as she deflected the few shots the droids managed to get off back at them. Tension churned in her gut as she tried not to glance backwards, relying instead on the reactions of her men to tell her whether the droids had taken the bait or not.

A wave of fierce satisfaction rippled through Sides’ battalion, and behind her she could hear the metallic creaking thumps of droids following in pursuit. But then the satisfaction sputtered out as the movement of the battalion in front of her suddenly slowed to a halt. Thinking quickly, she snatched the bag of droid poppers from a nearby clone and hurled its contents at the approaching clankers, pressing the activator buttons with the Force as the poppers flew through the air. The resulting hiss-whine of the droid poppers brought her enough time for Sides to push his way back to her, worry tight in the scars around his eyes.

“One of our tanks failed,” he said. “It collapsed, blocking the canyon ahead of us. The men might be able to make it through, but the other three tanks and the heavy cannons won’t be able to make it.”

Ahsoka’s breath caught at the implications, and she chanced a glance back at the approaching battle droids, who’d slowed their advance as the clones had come to a halt. Some of the men had already started digging in, settling into the various nooks and crannies along the canyon walls that offered some kind of protection from the Separatist blaster fire.

“Do what you can to clear the gap,” she told him decisively, “I’ll check with Commander Rex to see if he can spare anything to help.”

Sides nodded, roaring at his men to form firing lines, and Ahsoka moved deeper into the battalion until she reached the nearest AT-TE and pulled herself up inside. The tank shook with repeated firing, the rhythmic shudders hardly even making her stumble as she moved to the communication panel, sliding in next to the clone who’d been sitting there.

Rex’s helmet came up on screen as her fingers flew across the controls, and even with a helmet and a com-call between them, she could feel his worry threading through the Force.

“General–”

“We’re stuck, Rex,” she told him. “One of the tanks took too many hits and it’s fallen and blocked the canyon. Do we have anything that could shift it out of the way?”

He shook his head. “Everything we have is already at the center, and if we diverted it to get you…”

She grimaced. “You wouldn’t be able to hold, I understand. I’ll figure something out.”

“It’s not just that,” he warned. “We managed to put bombs in the western canyons, but some of the men were found before they could plant the explosives in the eastern canyons. Torrent company had to pull back, and now that side is overrun. They pulled back to the center, but we lost most of the tanks and heavy cannons from those battalions. I’ve pulled troopers from the Western canyons to make up the difference, but we may not be able to hold.”

Horror left her breathless – _how did I miss feeling their deaths?_ – but she pushed the feeling away and pushed her mind towards finding solutions. 

“We need reinforcements if we’re going to hold this post, General,” Rex said, his voice somber.

Her lips thinned. “I’ll send a call to Admiral Coburn, have him send troopers over from the 327th. Just… do what you can, Rex. Keep them alive.”

He nodded gravely. “I’ll do what I can, General. Rex out.”

The trooper in the body of the tank with her – she thought his name was Sail – was studiously and fixedly paying attention to the readouts at his station, but he quickly re-routed Ahsoka’s call to the Republic fleet in orbit before she could turn and ask. The call was fuzzy, the signal distorted by distance and the jagged confines of the rock around them, and Ahsoka’s eyes narrowed when she was answered by one of Admiral Coburn’s new junior officers, a natural-born Lieutenant from Corellia.

“General...Tono, was it?” 

She determinedly kept her face immobile, feeling rather than hearing the slight twitch of the trooper behind her at the mispronunciation. 

“Tano,” she said curtly. “I’m requesting reinforcements be sent immediately to my position, authorization code Aurek-Esk-1189. The 327th should be closest. Please ask General Secura to send as many troopers as she can spare.”

The lieutenant… _simpered_ at her. “I’m afraid, General Tano, that your request has to be denied. You don’t have the authorization.”

“You’re mistaken,” she said coldly, trying to cover up the growing pit of apprehension in her gut.

“New Senate policy,” the lieutenant replied. “All extraneous military requests are to be ratified by your attending officer.”

Ahsoka shared an incredulous look with Sail out of the corner of her eye before she said, with as much polite insistence as she could muster. “I don’t think you understand me, Lieutenant. I need those reinforcements _now_.”

His response oozed insouciance. “I’m sorry, General, but I have my orders, as do you. I’m sure you understand.”

Anger was rapidly taking over her apprehension, leaving a bitter taste of ashes under the dust in her mouth. “Listen here, you little shit,” she gritted out, watching the transmission fuzz slightly from the force of her anger. “I don’t have time for this. I need Master Secura to send reinforcements from the 327th _now_ or we won’t be able to hold this gorge.”

“That’s your problem, _Master_ Jedi,” he replied primly. “I have my orders.”

The transmission went dead.

Ahsoka stared at the communications console in incredulous shock. For a moment, she nearly reached out and re-initiated the call, intending to make the young, natural-born – she never realized just how much she _agreed_ with what the clones called any non-clone navy officer, but right then she understood their derision – lieutenant realize just what he had done by cutting her off, but then the tank rattled hard enough to send her staggering out of her seat, and she recognized that she’d run out of time.

Sail steadied her before she could fall to the floor, riding the shakes and shudders of the AT-TE with an ease born of long practice. She patted his shoulder in thanks once she was back on her feet, meeting his worried gaze with a wry twist of her mouth that was more like a scowl than she cared to admit.

“Sail, I know I can’t order this of you, but if you could–”

He nodded hurriedly. “No one will hear this from me, General.” He frowned, shooting a worried look her direction. “Sir, if the 327th isn’t sending reinforcements…”

“I know.” She sighed. “I need to talk to Captain Sides.” She slid back out of the tank, landing squarely amidst a cloud of dust and bolts of hot plasma. Dodging and deflecting her way back to the front, she snagged another bag of droid poppers from a clone who’d stretched his out to her and tossed the lot of them into the mass of droids to give her and her troopers some breathing room.

“Well General?” Sides asked once she’d crouched down beside him.

She shook her head.

He turned to look at her, shock lurking in his eyes even as he shot another two battle droids in the head, followed by a grim determination once he’d gotten a better look at her face. 

“Well,” he said, “guess it’s time to dig in them. Go back to the ops center, General. We’ve got this.”

Ahsoka grinned wryly. “You forget, Captain, who my master was.” She shoved a grenade flying towards their heads back to the droid who threw it, her mouth quirking at the mechanized scream of alarm. “Get your men to move the downed tank. Commander Rex needs your heavy cannons.”

“Sir, if I take away men from the firing line, we’ll–”

“I’ll hold the canyon, Captain,” she said firmly. “Leave me two squads to keep my flanks clear and go get that tank out of the way.”

Sides opened his mouth to argue, only to curse and duck behind cover as a nearby mortar shot sent choking dust and gravel sailing over him and Ahsoka both. “With all respect, sir, Commander Rex would have my head for letting you do this.”

“Rex has bigger things to deal with right now.” she said, something in her voice making Sides turn and stare at her closely. “And he needs your heavy cannons. So _move_ , Captain.”

He gave her a short, considering stare from behind his helmet, then saluted and began speaking quickly into his comlink, heading back to the tanks and cannons at a crouched run.

Ahsoka ran in the opposite direction, picking her way through newly formed craters and the never-ending rain of blaster fire until she stood at a narrow part of the canyon, only two meters behind the foremost firing line. At her order, the clones in front of her tossed out their own droid poppers – from rapidly dwindling stores – and streamed past her, taking up positions on her left and right while their brothers behind them moved to clear the offending tank.

Ahsoka settled into her preferred opening stance at a narrow almost-bend in the canyon, both sabers held in a backwards grip that had earned her Master Skywalker’s annoyance on more than once occasion. _You’re not here, Master,_ she thought, trying not to sound bitter, even to herself, _you don’t get to lecture me on my lightsaber technique._

The droids, spying only one lone Jedi and a few mere handfuls of clone troopers opposing them, faltered only momentarily before pushing forward until their firing line was just beyond the reach of her sabers.

She didn’t take the bait, of course, though she knew a younger her would have leaped for it, striking down battle droids until the air stank with the smell of molten durasteel and burning lubricant. But she wasn’t that padawan anymore, so she stayed where she was, lightsabers flickering around her, protecting the men at her back.

Blaster bolts flew thick and fast around her, more than once leaving her nostrils scorched with the passage of laser-fire. Though it wasn’t enough to make her pause, she could still feel the faint burn of exhaustion in her muscles, the side effect of too many long days spent fighting and not enough long nights spent sleeping. But her hands where she gripped her sabers were as steady as ever, and her movements unfaltering.

“General!” Sides shouted from her comlink. “We’re clear! Pull back!”

She clicked her comlink once to show she’d heard, still batting back the bolts that came too close, and gradually began to start to move back when the fire from the Separatist line began to disperse. _The Seppies can’t be turning back, not when they have us pinned here–_

A faint whistle was the only sound she had before the world exploded around her, sending her and her men tumbling back, slamming into the scarred sides of the canyon. 

“Mortar fire!” she yelled, or tried to, except her throat didn’t seem to work and opening her mouth only led to drowning in sand, But training shoved her upright, pulling her sabers to her hands, and she staggered back to the front, her feet slipping on the wet stones–

_Wet stones? There’s no water here–_

Where _was_ the front? If she couldn’t find the firing line, her troops would be overrun. She needed to pull them back. Rex needed–

_Why can’t I hear anything?_

The ground crumbled out from under her feet – _or was that the sky? –_ she couldn’t feel her fingers – _“Keep ahold of your lightsaber, Ahsoka. This weapon is your life.” – “Is that why you keep losing yours, Skyguy?” – “I’m serious, Snips” – ”I know, I know. This weapon is my life. I remember.” –_ her hands scrabbled in the dust, sliding along the sticky-slick surface of her lightsaber – she was standing, rallying, her voice one among hundreds screaming defiance to an uncaring opponent – hands tugged her backwards and she struggled – _Rex needs the heavy cannons –_ her feet slipped on the stones again, but this time it _hurt –_ fire in a line down her montrals – _”Rex! I’ve got her!” –_ a gloved hand clutching her shoulder – what was making that _noise_? – ” _General Unduli, can’t you do something?” –_ she reached for the Force but it danced just beyond her fingertips – _”I am doing all I can, Commander. Only Ahsoka will decide what happens to her now.” – I’m sorry, Anakin, I let go – ”Hang in there, kid. We’ve got you_. _Just hang in there._ ” – she grasped at the Force again, but it slipped through her fingers like water, like sand, like the wind…

And the darkness rolled her under.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

…”Appreciate the timing, Lieutenant.”

“You called, I answered, _ner vod_. Besides, I needed a break from babysitting duty.”

“Utapau?”

“... You’re well informed for a Legion Commander.”

“Had a friend who was an ARC Trooper. He liked putting intel together.”

“I heard about Fives. Not easy, finding _that_ out about the Jedi.”

“The General wasn’t a part of that.”

“I never said she was.” A chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Sergeant Skirata likes her. Apparently she’s scrappier than he expected.”

A short laugh, quickly stifled. “She is that. But she’s always been scrappy.”

“She’ll pull through, _ner vod_. Can’t say I like the Jedi much, but they do have good healers.”

“... It wasn’t Fives that found out about Utapau. It was an ARC Trooper named Echo. He pulled the info together before he died on that run on the Citadel.”

“And you didn’t mention it?”

“I didn’t find his files until after General Skywalker vanished. After that… it seemed prudent to keep an eye on it.”

“... Well, if you like General Tano you won’t mention it. Scrappy she may be, but she’s no match for Grievous.”

She was already. Twice.”

“Twice? Really? Well damn, maybe she _could_ manage it.”

“I doubt we’ll get the chance.”

“... what was the casualty count?”

A sigh. “Sixty percent. We lost almost sixty-five hundred men. All because a snot-nosed natural-born lieutenant thought he could play at politics.”

“And they wonder why we don’t like them.” A pause. “How will she react?”

“...She’ll blame herself. It was her plan.”

“It was a good plan. I’ve seen more experienced Generals make worse plans than her and lose their entire force in one battle. She knew her strengths and she worked with them. It was risky, but it was a good plan.

A sigh and a gloved hand that brushed against her fingers. “I’m hearing mutterings from some of my contacts. With all these new officers? The Senate may be looking to take over the GAR.”

“If you’re looking to get out, _vod–_ ”

“No.” A sigh, dripping with resignation. “Not yet. Not unless you can get the rest of us out all at once.”

Laughter. “Give us some warning, Commander. Forty-four hundred is a bit much even for _Kal’buir_ to manage on short notice… You’ll be taking your Jedi with you then?”

A shift of fabric that might have been a nod.

“Give us a call. We’ll see what we can do.”

“...Thank you.”

“She helped us, _ner vod._ We can at least return the favor.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahsoka thrashed herself awake, her limbs tangling in the clinging sheets of… a field hospital cot? Her pulse thundered in her head, intensifying the sudden throbbing of her montrals and resonating throughout every ache in her body. Wide-eyed with a rush of adrenaline, she gazed blindly around herself until her heartbeat slowed and her mind freed itself from the sudden pressing need to escape.

She was in a quiet corner of a field hospital, tucked into a cot that was one among many, all occupied by injured, unconscious clones. Her chest chose that moment to object over her abrupt, hasty movements by setting a slow fire to her nerves that spread until it raged along her entire torso, forcing her back onto her cot with a groan.

“That can’t have been comfortable,” said a voice to her right.

Ahsoka craned her head to see the speaker, and caught a glimpse of a blue and gray striped _kama_ out of the corner of her eye. “Fives?” she asked incredulously. Struggling to sit upright again, she hissed as the pain increased.

A gauntleted hand pressed her back down. “‘Fraid not,” the voice said again, moving around until the speaker – a clone in ARC Trooper blue armor – dragged a chair to the side of her cot and settled into it. “I’m Lieutenant Kom’rk Skirata. Commander Rex called in for some back up and I happened to be in the area.”

“Skirata?” she asked, making sure to take shallow breaths against the pain in her ribcage.

He grinned at her. “You spoke to Sergeant Skirata about the control chips a month or so ago. I’m one of his.”

“Oh.” She exhaled shakily. “Rex called you in?”

“Yep!” He popped the ‘p.’ “Had me bring you the reinforcements you wanted.”

_Reinforcements…?_ She shot upright, horror numbing the scorching pain in her chest. “How many?” she asked. “How many did I lose?”

Kom’rk pushed her back to the cot. “Your boys were holding pretty well when I arrived–”

_“How many?”_

“...Sixty percent,” he finally told her, his face inscrutable. “The 501st is down to about forty-four hundred men.”

Ahsoka’s eyes slid closed, abruptly breathless as the grief rushed in, weighing heavy on her already strained chest.

“Your plan was solid.”

She blinked, looking up to see him watching her. “What?”

“You kept your men together, didn’t panic, and completed your objective. You did the best you could with a bad situation.”

“I lost _two thirds_ of my men,” she said, her lips thinning. “How is that the best I could have done?”

He grinned at her, a feral baring of teeth that nearly brought an answering snarl to her own face. “I’ve seen Jedi who don’t care half so much about their men lose _all_ of them in a plan like what you pulled _and_ they get out of it without a scratch. Your men trusted your judgment and that kept more of them alive than there would be otherwise. The only blame you should be accepting in this case is that you trusted the wrong people to watch your back, and they failed.” He tilted his head. “And you won’t make that mistake again, will you?”

Her breath caught. “What do you mean?”

“ _Are_ you just going to let the Senate send your men to die?” he asked, his tone nonchalant even as his gaze pinned her to the cot. “It seems to me that they owe you far more than you owe them.”

Ahsoka blinked, her mouth gaping like a fish, as her thoughts chased each other in circles.

Kom’rk shrugged, getting to his feet and tucking the chair close to her cot. “Just something to think about, General.”

He passed by Rex at the entrance to the hospital, clapping a hand to the other man’s shoulder and muttering something to him in a low undertone. Whatever he said, Rex listened and nodded, clapping his own hand to Kom’rk’s pauldron in response and picking his way through the rows of cots before he got to Ahsoka.

His gaze lingered on her bandaged head and chest as he moved closer, though his expression remained carefully neutral. But as he dragged out the chair Kom’rk had tucked by her cot, she saw weariness and frustration in the lines of his shoulders and the too-tight clench of his hands.

“How are you doing, Rex?” she asked once he’d gotten settled.

He snorted. “Pretty sure I should be the one asking you that, General.”

She wiggled her feet under the blankets. “I can still move my feet, so I’m fine.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works, kid.” He tucked a smile away before it could form, but she saw the beginnings of it anyways.

“The Lieutenant said we lost sixty percent.”

Rex sighed, rubbing his hands over his shorn scalp. “Yeah, we did.”

Grief sank like a stone into her chest, and Ahsoka curled her shoulders forward against the guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he told her, shaking his head. “We had a job to do and we did it.”

“But not at the expense of everyone dying!” she exclaimed, horror rising in her throat, strangling her words.

“We’re soldiers,” he said firmly. “We followed orders.”

She opened her mouth to object, but he raised his hand, forestalling her response. 

“We also made a choice,” he reminded her. “That’s more than we’ve had in a long while. Don’t diminish that.”

“They trusted me and I got them killed. I’ve had casualties before but… never like that,” she said in a small voice.

“You also trusted that Command would send you the reinforcements you needed and they didn’t. You’re not to blame for this, Ahsoka.”

She searched his gaze, reaching into the Force to feel the echoes of his emotions. Anger was the strongest, as she suspected, but it was directed firmly at the nameless lieutenant who’d left them to die because of politics. For her there was only worry and a sort of bemused pride. For what, she didn’t know, but it lingered regardless.

“What now?” she asked.

“The 501st has been recalled to Coruscant,” he replied. “You’ve been out of it for a few days now and the rest of the men aren’t much better. We need to resupply and build up our numbers. So we’re going back.”

Ahsoka sighed, wincing against the pull in her chest, and leaned her head against her pillow.

“Get some more rest, sir,” Rex said before she could speak. “I’ll keep you informed.”

With the edges of her vision growing blurry with exhaustion and pain, she nodded and forcibly relaxed back into her cot, sinking into dreamless oblivion.

She fell asleep to the brush of Rex’s hand patting her shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The 501st limped into Coruscant a week later, with its walking wounded crammed together with the few troopers that had escaped unscathed on the battered Acclamator-class assault ship _Vanguard_. When it landed, ground crew swarmed the vessel and the 501st disembarked, wounded troopers headed for medi-shuttles while the rest boarded gunships to the barracks, anger and defeat palpable in every line of their bodies as they moved to the shuttles.

Ahsoka watched her men file away in silence, her thoughts churning. Frustration lurked around the edges of her control, chipping away at it the more her mind turned to the events of the Ossus campaign. Thoughts and ideas tumbled over one another, each one more and more implausible as she tried to make sense of what happened in those desolate canyons. But no matter what scenario presented itself, the fact remained that what happened on Ossus _made no sense._

The 501st had been tasked with securing a critical avenue for the assault on the Separatist base. If they had fallen – Ahsoka shuddered – then the Separatists would have overrun the Republic forces, turning a hard-fought campaign into a total rout. To refuse to help – and possibly even sabotage her strategies – would have set the Republic back months in a plan that would barely be able to work normally in the best of times. It wasn’t even that Ossus wasn’t important – it was, she’d checked the hyperspace maps – it was that the GAR had shown itself to be divided when it could least afford it, and her men had paid the price.

And the Senate controlling the GAR the way they had? There was no way they should have been able to do it, not unless the policy was ratified by High Council members…

Her lips thinned, and she pulled up her holo-net link to the Jedi Temple, her eyes scanning through the locations of the various Council members (a practice instigated with the start of the war and padawans wandering through the halls trying to find senior masters for some reason or another) until she found… There. The Senate building.

Her objective found, she waved at Rex and mounted a speeder bike before heading towards the Senate building in search of Master Windu and Master Yoda.

Her frustration was palpable by the time she reached the Senate building, a simmering mix of emotions building up behind her mental shields as she carefully settled her robes, adjusted the lightsabers on her hips, and strode into the Senate building as calmly as she could as her mind raced down various paths to find the reason _why_ the Council would let this type of thing happen.

Holograms, projected every few meters, showed the Chancellor in his podium in the midst of a speech that rambled on as Ahsoka stalked through the corridors of the Senate Building.

“–this time I fear we have deceived ourselves. It may have been unintentional, but the fact remains that we have put our faith – our hopes in winning this war – on an organization that has been proven to be unable to take the strain.”

Whispers followed her down the corridors, a wave of hushed noise that set her teeth on edge. She could feel the stares on her back as she passed, though none of the aides or junior representatives in front of her would meet her gaze.

“–made the choice to trust peacemakers to wage a war–”

The mood in the Senate Building was ugly and dark, edging towards hostile, even through the obscuring cloud over the Force. The Chancellor’s words, outwardly apologetic but kind, felt to her Force-sense like a sort of numbing ooze that stuck to her soul and never came off.

She controlled her shudders, barely, reminding herself that she needed to find Master Yoda and Master Windu – strange that she almost forgot – before she turned down a hallway that led to the west side of the Senate Chamber and nearly ran into squad of Senate Guardsmen. The guardsmen froze in the middle of the corridor, staring at Ahsoka from behind their inscrutable blue helmets until she nearly choked from the swelling animosity she could feel emanating from the group. Her hands twitched towards her sabers, and the resulting pulse of adrenaline and anger from the guardsmen nearly left her breathless.

“Master Tano!” a woman behind her called out. “You’re late for an appointment with the Senator!”

The guardsmen tensed even further, if that was possible, but their attention moved to the woman who spoke, and after a moment’s pause, they relaxed slightly.

“Lady Moteé, Lady Dormé,” one of the guardsmen said, inclining his helmeted head. “I didn’t realize this Jedi was with you, I would have–”

“Captain,” Lady Moteé replied curtly, “I wasn’t aware it was the purview of the Senate Guard to lurk in corridors three floors away from their charges.” The captain looked like he’d been slapped. “Now I’m sure that you and your men have a patrol to be getting to?” she asked, sickly sweet, her tone daring him to contradict her.

Stunned, it took the captain a few seconds to respond, but with one final not-glare at Ahsoka, the captain signaled to his men and they continued on their way.

Ahsoka eyed them warily as they passed, turning to follow their progress as they moved out of sight. It wasn’t until they turned the corner that she relaxed and bowed politely at the two handmaidens who’d come to her rescue.

“Lady Moteé, Lady Dormé,” she said. “My thanks for the help.”

Moteé smiled. “It was our privilege, Master Tano.”

“I’m afraid you will need to come with us, however, Master Tano,” Dormé said, her expression somber.

Ahsoka glanced back down the hallway to where the strangely hostile Senate Guardsmen had disappeared. “I think you might be right. Lead on.”

The Chancellor’s speech still droned on in the hallways, but Moteé and Dormé set a brisk pace to a speeder bay only two floors down, and they quickly emerged into the late afternoon sun and the bustling noise of the city-planet. The flight to the Senate Apartment Complex was a quiet one, though the tightness in Ahsoka’s chest eased with every second she got farther and farther away from the Senate Building.

Captain Typho met her on the veranda, a light smile on his face, though his eye had its usual grimness as it roved over the bruises on her face, lingering on the long, angry wound slashed over her montrals.

“Her Excellency is in her quarters, Master Tano. She’s requested that you go right in.”

Ahsoka bowed. “Of course. Thank you Captain.”

He gave a curt nod and turned to go back into the apartment, muttering instructions to his security team as he moved away.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, settling her frazzled nerves as best as she could before following him in. The apartment was well known to her by now, with as many times as she’d visited since Anakin’s disappearance. Still, C3PO’s surprised, “Mistress Tano! How good of you to come!” brought a faint smile to her face that only grew wider as she approached the occupant of the large bed in the master suite.

“Your Excellency, you’re looking particularly… lively this evening.”

“Gravid, Ahsoka. The word you’re looking for is gravid.” Padmé winced, resettling herself on her cushions, the large swell of her pregnant belly protruding before her.

Ahsoka’s mock solemnity broke under her friend’s peevishness. “How is the kid?” she asked, situating herself on the edge of the bed.

“Kids,” Padmé smiled. “The doctor told me it was twins.” Her gaze slid upwards to Ahsoka's montrals. "Ancestors, Ahsoka, should you even be out of bed?"

Ahsoka waved a hand, brushing aside the question. "I'm fine." She suppressed a wince as her movements jarred her ribs. “So, twins huh? That explains a lot.”

Padmé tilted her head inquiringly, though her mouth was still pinched with new worry. “It does?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Yeah, the Force signature was never really right for one child, but two makes a lot of…” She stuttered to a halt at the look on her friend’s face. “Oh... Padmé, I’m sorry, I swear I wasn’t thinking–”

“It’s alright, Ahsoka,” Padmé said, patting Ahsoka’s arm. “It just hit me how much these children are going to be like Ani. Especially now, when….” she sighed. “Have you heard the Chancellor’s latest proposal he put towards the Senate?”

“I heard bits of it in the Senate building, but we left before I heard everything. What happened?”

“He asked the Senate to give more money to the war effort.”

Ahsoka frowned. “Well that’s good, isn’t it? It’ll help with supplies, ship repair, medical costs–”

Padmé’s expression was bitter. “If only that’s what it was for. Here.” She pushed a button on the holo-projector. “I recorded it.”

Palpatine’s voice oozed through the spacious bedroom, the uneasiness he unearthed in Ahsoka no less for the distance between them. But she forced herself to listen all the way through, her horror growing with every word he said.

“–I have made provisions for a new fighting force, made up of _Republic_ citizens, and trained by the best instructors in the Grand Army of the Republic. Loyal to the core, these men and women fight for their homes, their families, their very right to exist. They understand the sacrifices they will need to make in order to protect the Republic they love.

“But without your help, Senators, none of these valiant soldiers will be able to help turn the tide. So I must ask you now, will you stay in your homes and cower against the dark? Or will you step forward to do your part in preserving the Republic and help strike a blow into the very heart of the Separatist machine?”

The enthusiastic cheers that greeted his speech sent chills down Ahsoka’s spine, and she quickly thumbed the hologram off, her montrals ringing with the sudden silence.

“But where is he going to find other fighters?” she asked. “Before the war, the Republic didn’t have a standing army. If it wasn’t for the clones, we would never have been able to fight this war.”

“I’m still not entirely sure that we should have,” Padmé said, absently worrying at her lip.”But that’s not the only thing that worries me. He never explicitly says so, but it’s clear that he’s leaving the blame for the way the war’s going squarely on–”

“The Jedi.” Ahsoka sighed. “That explains a lot.”

“What happened?”

She rubbed her forehead, trying to stave away a sudden headache. “I just came from Ossus where we ran into a… situation.” Her fingers brushed the raw area on her montrals and she hissed, jerking her hand away. Thankfully it didn't come back bloody, though her fingers did shine in the low light from the bacta that'd been slathered on the wound.

Padmé gasped. “Is everyone alright? Are you sure you should be here? I can send for a doctor.”

Grief burned the back of Ahsoka’s throat, though her voice remained steady. “I’m fine,” she assured her. “We ran into trouble, so I called for reinforcements… and they refused my request.”

“They what?” Padmé cried, her eyes blown wide with shock.

“Apparently I needed to have the permission of an ‘attending officer,’ which of course I didn’t have, so they just… refused.” She resisted the urge to curl in on herself. “I lost two thirds of my men.”

Padmé’s face was white. “I remember that vote,” she whispered.

Ahsoka looked up sharply. “You what?”

“I remember that vote. It was held a week ago. I didn’t think it would take effect so quickly.”

Ahsoka carefully picked at a worn patch of her robes. “You didn’t… vote for it, did you?”

“No, of course not.” Padmé pressed her hand to Ahsoka’s. “Nor did Representative Binks, but I’m afraid…” she sighed. “News about the war has spread through the Senate. Everyone’s running scared.”

“So they vote to make it worse!?” Ahsoka exclaimed, her voice echoing.

Padmé winced at the noise, glancing at a device on her bedside table that Ahsoka vaguely recognized as a signal scrambler. She met Ahsoka’s questioning gaze with a grimace, her mouth thinning in resigned displeasure.

“Padmé,” Ahsoka asked, her tone carefully neutral. “Why is there a scrambler in your bedroom?”

The older woman sighed. “The Senate isn’t what it used to be. With the way the war’s going, and all the Jedi going missing.”

“Most of them aren’t missing. They’re dead.”

Padmé blanched. “I know, I know, but…” she met Ahsoka’s gaze, her expression pinched. “Opinions in the Senate are not very favorable to the Jedi right now. There have been too many reports about clone troopers deserting and Jedi simply vanishing and the Senate is reacting, they feel, accordingly.”

Ahsoka bit her lip to stay silent, though her mind was racing. If clones _and_ Jedi were deserting, then she was surprised the Council hadn’t heard about it yet.

“–spoken to the Delegation of 2000, but even most of them have begun to agree with the Chancellor when it comes to the Jedi and some of us have even been attacked–”

“Attacked?” Ahsoka straightened. “Padmé, were you–”

“I’m fine,” Padmé said quickly, making a face at Ahsoka’s frown. “Really, I’m fine. They never even made it to the apartment. I’m leaving soon anyways, to go to Naboo. I just have the last few details to smooth away, then I’ll leave and my sister will come here to take my place.”

Ahsoka blinked. “You’re retiring?”

“Only for a few years at first,” Padmé grinned ruefully. “Though if these kids are anything like their father, it may be for longer.”

“Well, I’m going to bring some troopers here, just in case. Artoo too.”

“Really, Ahsoka, you don’t have to–”

“If I’m running into trouble at the Senate Building, then you definitely need extra security. Besides,” she smiled, “you’re my friend.”

Padmé softened. “Thank you, Ahsoka.” She frowned. "You ran into trouble in the Senate building?"

Ahsoka’s comlink beeped, the green light flashing urgently. “It’s the Council,” she said, rising from the bed. “I need to go report in.” She hesitated at the door. “You’ll be okay?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m sending over the troopers and Artoo immediately,” she warned.

Padmé laughed. “I’ll be _fine_ , Ahsoka. Go.”

The speeder bike she’d used to get to the Senate Building was waiting serenely on the edge of the veranda as if she’d never parked it anywhere else. Lady Moteé stood by it, her expression bland underneath her hood, though a wry amusement lurked in the Force.

Ahsoka nodded her thanks and leapt astride, her fingers tapping out a command to Rex on her comlink, requesting the troopers she’d offered to Padmé. She sent an alert to Artoo as well, knowing that the droid would make his way over as soon as possible. The trip back to the Temple was uneventful, since the id chip in the speeder let her slip into a little-used skylane that lead directly to the Temple, bypassing all the crowded, rush-hour traffic congesting the Senate District.

Her thoughts, however, did not flow so easily. With the political mess going on in the Senate, plus the Chancellor’s new push towards a non-clone army – which was odd, since he never pushed for it before – Ahsoka got the feeling that there was a trap, somewhere, being sprung.

And the Jedi were right in the middle of it.

A year ago she would have discounted the idea, trusting that the Council had things, if not under control, then at least well understood. Force, even eight months ago she’d still believed that. But now… She hadn’t lied to Padmé. There _were_ a lot of Jedi on the Missing list who were presumed dead for one reason or another. But there were also a number of Jedi whose disappearances were due to being “overrun by opposing forces,” and no indication was ever made that the Order sent anyone to look for them.

The way no one was sent for Master Kenobi when he disappeared.

The speeder bike beeped at her as the skylane began to drift downwards, angling towards the Temple, and Ahsoka turned the bike in the direction of one of the eastern hangars. If she was lucky, then the hangar would be empty enough that she could park the speeder and reach the High Council chambers before her comlink changed from light beeping to shrill screeching. Of course, if she was lucky, then she probably wouldn’t need to report to the Council at all.

It was almost twenty minutes before she managed to extricate herself from the hangar – a cohort of younglings had come in from a trip to one of the Mid Rim Temples, and the hangar was teeming with younglings, creché-masters, and a full platoon of clones. Her chest had started throbbing again, protesting the amount of movement she’d done so far, and the burn on her montrals twinged fiercely every time she turned her head.

The Temple guards at the doors to the Council chambers didn’t react as Ahsoka came running through the hallways to skid to a stop at the doors, though she could feel the faint prickle of their disapproval in the Force as they let her in. The Council chambers were shaded reddish-gold by the setting sun, gilding the edges of the chairs placed in a circle around the room. Most weren’t occupied – the Masters that normally used them were out minding the business of war – but Master Yoda and Master Windu were there, having recently returned from the Senate building, as were Master Tiin, Master Mundi, Master Fisto, Master Kolar, and Master Plo, who gave her a faint, encouraging nod as she stepped into the center of the room.

“Masters, my apologies for my tardiness,” she said, bowing. “I came as soon as I could.”

“No problems, I trust?” Master Mundi asked.

“None at all, Master. The hangar I landed in was filled with very excitable younglings.”

“A daunting obstacle, no doubt,” Master Plo said, his amusement resonating in the Force.

She allowed a flash of her own amusement to leak out before firmly willing herself back to stillness.

“How fare you, Knight Tano, after the battle of Ossus?” Master Yoda asked. “Healing well, your injuries are?”

“Yes Master.”

“I understand that you lost two-thirds of your troops defending Master Unduli’s approach,” Master Windu said, steepling his fingers.

Inwardly Ahsoka winced, though she kept her features schooled to stillness. “Yes, Master.”

“Your report we would have,” Yoda said.

“Understood.” Straightening against the low throbbing in her head and chest, she told the Council what happened on Ossus, from her initial plan to collapse the canyons to her injuries by Separatist tank fire. “Commander Rex was able to communicate with one of his contacts to bring in reinforcements from the 327th. I’ve included his report in the documents I sent to the Council before landing on Coruscant.”

Windu and Yoda glanced at each other, tension flickering around them in the Force.

“You are certain it was a Lieutenant on Admiral Coburn’s ship that refused your request?” Master Windu asked.

“Absolutely.”

There was a strange, chilling silence in the Council chamber.

“In light of your recent injuries, Knight Tano, we think it may be best if you spend some time recuperating at the Temple,” Master Windu said, his voice carefully neutral.

Ahsoka frowned, her stomach twisting with uncertainty. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“You were gravely injured, Knight Tano,” Master Mundi interjected, his voice its usual soothing whisper.

“No, I–” She fought away her impatience. “I understand _that,_ Master Mundi, but with all due respect, my men need me in the field.”

“Decimated, your men have been. Time to recover they will need,” Yoda said, his expression unreadable. “Think of this as a vacation, perhaps you should.”

“I’ve been hurt worse than this and you’ve never grounded me before.”

Master Windu sighed. “That was before you disobeyed an order and diverted troops in the middle of an active campaign, potentially allowing for a weakening of one of our defensive lines.” His mouth thinned. “Admiral Tarkin has asked that you be… put on leave for the foreseeable future.”

“For how long?” she asked, disbelief curdling in her stomach.

“Indefinitely. Your men will be distributed to other Legions after they’ve had time to recuperate.”

“You can’t… you’re just going to agree with Admiral Tarkin? I did what I needed to do to protect my men and achieve the objective I was set. If I’d been overrun, then our defensive lines would have been _broken._ ”

“Be mindful of your attachments,” Master Tiin rumbled, his horned head tilted warningly. “Do not let them blind you to your duty to this Republic and to the Order.”

She nearly choked on her mounting horror. “So I should have just let them _die?_ With all due respect, Masters, but I have a duty to my men and that’s to make sure they come out of a battle with as few casualties as I can manage.”

“You are young,” Master Kolar said. “It is possible we were remiss in putting you at the head of a–”

“Oh, you were remiss in a lot of things,” she muttered, belatedly biting her tongue as every Master in the room turned to look at her.

“Objections have you, Knight Tano?” Master Yoda asked, his gaze shrewd over his gimer stick.

She hesitated, knowing that anything she said now would just put her into a deeper hole, but the words tripped out anyways. “Clones are not _things,_ to be used and discarded. They’re people. Living, breathing people. If we – if the Order ignores that, then we’re not better than slavers.”

“They have a duty–”

“We have a duty!” Ahsoka cried. “And we’re forgetting it!” Master Fisto opened his mouth to speak, but she plowed on. “When did we start treating living beings as collateral damage? When did we start treating _Jedi_ as collateral damage? How many times have we left people to die just because it was more _expedient_?”

“The Order does not have the resources to save everyone,” Master Mundi reminded her. “We must decide where to allocate them for the good of the galaxy.”

Incredulous, she stared at him, at the impassive faces that were nodding agreement. All except Master Plo, who’d laced his long fingers together and was watching Ahsoka consideringly.

“For the good of the galaxy?” she asked, her voice going flat. “Or for the good of the Senate?”

“To the Senate, and the Chancellor, our duty is. Abandon that, we cannot.”

“But we can abandon everything else?” she turned to face Master Yoda. “Like you abandoned Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi? Like you would have abandoned me?” How could her voice be this calm, she wondered, when it felt like every emotion she’d ever shoved aside was churning around in her gut like oiled snakes. The Masters were looking at her in varying states of surprise and disapproval, save for Master Plo, who was gazing at her in resigned understanding. The Force was silent, hovering over some unforeseen cliff edge, waiting to tilt forward or back on what Ahsoka was afraid would be her word alone.

“Barriss was right,” she said into the waiting silence, and felt the room flash with astonishment. “The Jedi _are_ failing. It started when we agreed to use a slave army and it’s only gotten worse now that we’ve let a Senate that hates us prevent us from protecting our own.”

“I’m sorry, Masters,” she said as the Force shivered, sliding her lightsabers from their clips and placing them on the floor in front of Yoda. “But if this is the direction the Jedi Order is going to turn, then I can no longer be a part of it.” Her comlink joined the pile and she stepped back to the center medallion, her head high, her chin straight, before bowing deeply and striding firmly out of the room.

No one stopped her as she left the Council chambers. The guards didn’t call out to her and the Council didn’t order her back to explain her actions. When she reached the Temple proper, she exchanged nods with a few of the other Knights she knew, but despite the weight of the decision she’d just made hanging over her in the Force, not a single Jedi looked at her twice as she made her way to the entrance of the Temple.

The main entrance was deserted when she hurried down the steps, the great pillars looming over her in the light of the sunset as she passed. She paused, unwillingly, at the top of the long staircase, grief freezing her feet to the top step. She could go back, she knew, she could turn around and go to the Council and they would have her back with only a reprimand. But if she did that… How could she trust them again? How could she trust herself?

It hurt, she realized. For the first time, the “soothing light” of the Temple wasn’t half as soothing as it pretended to be. At her feet, the galaxy opened itself up before her, endless and unknowable, and the light that was the Temple no longer provided the safety and security it once had. Yet how could she go back…

“General!”

She flinched at the voice, but didn’t move, her grief and shame conspiring to hold her hostage and immobile even as the pounding bootsteps came closer

“Ahsoka!”

Her shoulders hunched, she turned to face Rex as he clattered to a stop, still clad in his armor with his helmet clutched in one hand, his face flushed and shining from his harried sprint. Apologies bubbled to her lips at the look on his face, though she bit them back as best as she could. _I’m sorry, Rex. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you don’t understand, I_ have _to do this. I–_

“I know.”

There was no anger in his eyes when she finally met his gaze, only grim determination and… pride. He grinned at her astonishment. “I told you, General, we’ll follow you wherever you lead.”

She shook her head. “No Rex, I’m not–” she swallowed and averted her eyes, “–I’m not in the Order anymore. I can’t be your commanding officer.”

“Ahsoka.” His hand on her shoulder brought her gaze slowly up to his. “You lead. We’ll follow. The 501st goes where you go.”

“I can’t be part of the war anymore, Rex.”

He nodded. “Then neither are we.”

“You can’t just desert! You–” she bit her tongue, trying to continue in a calmer tone, though her voice still wavered. “If all of you leave, the GAR will hunt you down. They’ll kill you for it.”

“Let them try,” he told her, his voice as hard as durasteel. “I doubt they’ll get any brothers to do it.”

She searched his face, the look in his eyes, and found that the steel in his gaze steadied her, put stable ground where there’d been none. “Alright,” she said, pushing away the agony of her decision until she could deal with it later. “Let’s go.”

A taxi slid in front of them as they reached the bottom of the stairs, nudging out two other taxis who’d been angling for the same space. Without pausing, Rex opened the back passenger door and ushered Ahsoka inside, sliding in after her and shutting the door firmly.

“Well, General, I’m guessing you and your boys need a ride off this rock?” Kal Skirata turned around in the front passenger seat, a grin softening the lines of his craggy face. He motioned to the clone next to him. “You’ve already met Ordo here.”

She laughed, giddy relief bubbling into her throat. “Yes, that would be fantastic… and it’s just ‘Ahsoka,’ Sergeant Skirata. I’m not exactly a general anymore.”

“Then you can call me Kal,” Skirata said firmly. “Besides, you’re a better general than most I know.”

She blinked. “...You said you had a way to get off Coruscant?”

He eyed her over his shoulder. “Unless you want to stay here?” 

She shook her head. “No. I’m not certain that would be the best idea. But…” she glanced at Rex then back at Skirata. “Rex said the entire 501st is leaving too. Could you... “

“Already done,” Skirata assured her. “After you told us about the chips, we set up ways for clones to leave the GAR and settle elsewhere. Your boys are already heading off Coruscant as we speak.”

“Those that wanted to stay with you will regroup with us when it’s safe,” Rex said. “For now, they’re all keeping a low profile.”

Ordo pulled the taxi into a run-down airfield, stopping by a hangar that had a muddy “closed for renovations” sign half unstuck from the door.. He killed the vehicle’s power, letting it settle onto its landing struts and shoving a dataprobe into the cracked keypad by the hangar door. With a rusty groan, the door slid open partway and froze, creaking loudly. Ordo gave it a kick and it slid open the rest of the way as he walked inside, followed by Ahsoka, Rex, and Skirata.

The hangar was occupied by the crustiest freighter that Ahsoka had ever seen. It was a hodgepodge of at least ten different ships that she could see and probably another five she couldn’t. But the seams looked solid and the engines didn’t appear to be in too bad a shape, so she didn’t say anything when Skirata gave her a challenging look from the corner of his eye. 

“Nice ship,” she said as serenely as she could.

Skirata laughed. “Isn’t she though? No one will ever suspect there’s a former Jedi riding around in that.”

“No one will suspect there’s _anyone_ riding in that heap of junk,” Rex muttered behind her.

Still, Ahsoka bowed to Skirata. “Thank you. This is… I don’t know how to repay you.”

He stared at her with an odd look on his face. “No need to thank me, _ad’ika_ , you’ve already done more than enough for me and mine. It’s time I returned the favor.”

“General!” Rex called from the freighter’s loading ramp.

Ahsoka smiled at Skirata. “Well, I have my orders.”

He laughed. “You ever need help, just have your boys give me a call.”

She nodded and strode up the loading ramp, ducking under the low overhang of the freighter’s airlock, and stopped dead. Stationed at the controls was Two-fer, dressed in an ill-fitting, violently mauve, pilot’s jumpsuit. Saber was in the co-pilot’s seat, looking vaguely uncomfortable in a deck officer’s stiff, gray uniform. Over to the side, crammed into the miniscule crew lounge, Jax and Torc were playing dejarik with Jesse and Kix while Captain Sides leaned on the wall next to the galley. All of them looked up as she came in, their faces breaking into beaming grins.

“General!” Jax cried, waving at the dejarik table. “Take a seat! You, me, and Torc here should join together. We’d totally kick the _shebs_ off of Jesse and Kix here.”

“Don’t listen to him, General Tano,” Jesse warned, a grin lurking in his mock serious facade. “He’s lost the last three games. I doubt even you would be able to help him win again.”

They devolved into good-natured bickering as Ahsoka wandered over to Rex, her head tilted questioningly.

“Uh, Rex?” she asked, motioning at the rest of the former troopers.

He shrugged. “They volunteered, General. I wasn’t going to say no.”

“All of them?”

He nodded. “There were more, but we’re packed full as it is. I wasn’t going to risk it.”

“...Thank you.” she said softly. “For sticking with me. I know you had to leave a lot of brothers behind.”

“Might have left soon anyways,” he said, staring pensively at the rowdy dejarik game as Jax pounded the table and thoroughly cursed out Kix, who was leaning back with a quietly smug grin on his face. “It was getting so that it wasn’t the same GAR it started being. It’s good we’re leaving now.”

A comfortable silence stretched between them, broken only by the shouts from the lounge area and the quiet hum as Two-fer eased the freighter into the hyperspace queue.

“Oh.” Rex patted his pockets until he drew out a small, drawstring bag made of rough nerf leather. He tipped the bag into her palm. “General Koon gave me this before I went looking for you.” 

Ahsoka jumped at the jolt she felt in the Force as the bag hit her palm, though the sensation was oddly familiar. Curious, she undid the drawstring and blinked at the two uncut kyber crystals that glinted up at her. She could feel them reaching for her in the Force, quivering to attune themselves to her mind, provided she let them.

Tears blurred her vision as she carefully drew the bag closed, threatening to overflow and spill down her cheeks. But she blinked them back, slipping the bag into her belt pouch, and smiled brightly at Rex’s questioning glance.

“So, do we have a destination?” she asked him.

Rex shook his head. “Entirely up to you.”

She gazed at the dazzling starscape outside the cockpit’s transparisteel viewport, watching as the stars suddenly blurred into long streaks of light and the kick of the hyperdrive pushed her back onto her heels.

“Let’s go see if Senator Amidala needs some help on Naboo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	11. Signal Fires Beckon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Draigh’s death and the revelation of his identity, Anakin Skywalker has returned to the Rebel Fleet to plan for a strike against the Empire.
> 
> But some things are more changed than even Anakin can predict, and in the calm before the storm, he may find that fighting is harder than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update, I was traveling yesterday.

Endurance _Briefing Room, Alpha Fleet, Dantooine; 3 years after the Battle of Yavin_

Anakin sat in the briefing room of the _Endurance_ with an array of tools spread in his lap, his new prosthetic hand attached, and his chair canted until it was almost hidden behind Padmé’s as the leaders of the Rebel Alliance – both through hologram and in person – turned the room into a cacophony.

“–will be our next actions?”

“The Empire _will_ retaliate as soon as they learn of this. We need to–”

“–don’t have the numbers necessary to survive an attack. We should retreat to–”

“Run away? I’d sooner kiss a Gundark.”

“–news from the Outer Rim? Any suitable bases there? The Hutts might–”

“That’s all well and good for you, Commander, but some of us have civilians under our care. Are we just meant to throw them into harm’s way? Or perhaps you’re suggesting we throw them to the Empire and–”

“You dare! I ought to–”

“Gentlemen, please, we need to–”

“–word to pull together all resources, send the rebel cells underground–”

“Yes I dare! Your people are warlike, mine are not. The Empire has done enough–”

“ _Gentlemen_ ,” Padmé snapped, her voice cutting through the din like an ion disruptor through droids. “Let us please try to have a civil conversation here.”

The room subsided – though not without some mutterings – and a slender, red-headed woman that Anakin vaguely recognized as Mon Mothma rose with a nod of thanks to Padmé.

“I’m sure you’re all aware of the events of the past two weeks,” Mothma said, “But for those who are not, about two weeks ago, Rebel agents recovered an important historical artifact from an Imperial facility. The artifact was a stasis pod, dated from the Mandalorian Wars, and in it was Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.” She waited for the room to quiet down, serenely ignoring the surreptitious looks towards Anakin’s seat. “Master Skywalker was returned to the _Endurance_ about a week and a half ago, and was kind enough to assist us in an altercation with the Empire. However,” her face grew grave, “he was forced to leave due to some… security concerns, which have since been rectified.”

“Apologies for the interruption, Senator Mothma,” an older human with salt and pepper hair and General’s bars on an Alderaanian uniform spoke up, “but is it true that Master Skywalker killed the Emperor’s Right Hand?”

More gazes turned towards Anakin as Mothma responded. “Master Skywalker?” 

“If you’re talking about Maul, or Draigh, or whatever, then yeah, he’s dead.” Anakin carefully selected a tool from the pile that rested on a rag in his lap, inserted it into a tiny socket on his new hand, and started to carefully adjust the tension of the durasteel bones.

“With all due respect, Master Skywalker,” the General said, “but are you certain that Draigh is dead? If you are mistaken, it could spell disaster for us all.”

“It’s hard to live through falling in lava, General… Rieekan, was it?” The General nodded, and Anakin tightened a spot on his hand that caused his thumb to start twitching spasmodically. “But if you’re asking if I went to find the body, then no, I didn’t.”

General Rieekan–and several others–was obviously trying not to look like he was repulsed by Anakin’s new hand, but his faint disgust floated lightly in the Force like a bad odor.

“It might have gone better for us if you had,” Rieekan said. “We may have been able to show the body as proof to demoralize the Empire.”

“I’m sorry, General.” Anakin twisted the tool and the fingers on his right hand twitched like a dying spider. “But _my_ priority was to my children.” He pinned Rieekan with a look. “Unless you’re saying I should have left them bleeding in the facility while I searched for a body possibly destroyed by lava?”

General Rieekan glanced away, flushing under his salt and pepper hair.

“No one is suggesting that you should have done anything differently, Master Skywalker,” said another man with white hair and beard (his name-tag and General’s bars labeled him as General Dodonna). “Ascertaining Dra–pardon me, _Maul’s_ demise would be useful in our endeavors against the empire. However, evidence of his death notwithstanding, we require a plan of action.” He turned to the rest of the room. “The Empire will not sit idly by. We must be ready for retaliation.”

The other Rebel leaders around the conference table–mostly human, though Anakin noticed a Duros and a Twi’lek that reminded him of Cham Syndulla–muttered worriedly to their neighbors.

“We could pull the Rebellion back, retreat to the Outer Rim,” said a Captain that Anakin didn’t recognize. “The Emperor hasn’t managed to negotiate for passage rights through Hutt space yet.”

“I doubt the Emperor cares about ‘passage rights,’ Captain Safoc.” Padmé said dryly. “If we run, now, then we will lose everything we’ve fought to protect. The Empire will be able to regain its strength and it _will_ strike at us again.” 

“We don’t have the resources to attack the Empire–”

The door slid open and Ahsoka stepped through, cutting off the Captain’s impassioned response as everyone turned to look at her. 

“Mistress Tano?” Mon Mothma asked once the silence had stretched a bit too long.

Ahsoka’s face was set, emotionless, but Anakin could see the way her fingers clutched a data-cube and found himself leaning forward. “Snips?”

She spared him a glance, but didn’t respond. Instead, she inserted the datacube into the conference table’s holosuite and pulled up a report that made shocked gasps ripple around the room like a hurricane.

“The Empire is already retaliating against our actions on Mustafar,” she said. “They’ve razed at least three dozen systems already.” Her fingers fluttered over the controls, pulling up planet after planet. “Lothal, Chandrilla, Ithor, Corellia, Pantora… All friendly to the Alliance and _all_ of them are either blockaded or burning.”

“The Empire can’t do that!”

“Where did they get the resources?”

“–can’t possibly support all those systems–”

“Everyone please!” Mon Mothma raised her hands for silence. “Mistress Tano, have we heard anything from our agents? How was the Empire able to pull this off?"

Ahsoka shook her head. “We’ve known for some time that the Empire was stockpiling resources. We assumed it was to rebuild the Death Star, but it seems that they’ve channeled those resources into the Imperial fleet.”

“That still doesn’t explain how the Empire knew about Mustafar so quickly,” General Rieekan said, carefully not looking at Anakin.

“Or how they knew where to hit,” said a Pantoran Captain whose hologram flickered and danced with static. “Pantora was a neutral system and still we were attacked. My people are dying by the hundreds, Senator Mothma, what is the Alliance going to do about that?”

“Your people will be taken care of, Captain Tarej,” Mothma assured him. “You have my word on that.”

“With all due respect to the Captain,” said a figure from another hologram. “But the Alliance simply does not have the resources to support all the systems whose indecision has rendered them ineffectual in the past!”

“‘Indecision?!’ Pantora has _always_ supported the Rebel Alliance–”

“Oh really? When was that?”

“–just because we have a duty to the citizens of Pantora to keep them safe from the Empire’s excesses–”

“ _You_ call them excesses. I call them murder. Or did you forget the thousands of innocent refugees from–”

“ _That is enough,”_ Padmé snapped, her voice slicing through the growing argument and silencing the murmurs that had sprung up in the corners of the room. “Regardless of the level of involvement by any system, _every_ system deserves to be defended from the Empire’s tyranny.” She turned to Ahsoka. “Ahsoka, do we have any other information about these attacks?”

Ahsoka looked grave. “Not enough. Only half of the Imperial fleet is accounted for. We’re still waiting on–”

“If the Empire finds us–”

“–we can’t survive an attack from the Imperial Fleet!”

“–said before, we should retreat to the Outer Rim! Regain our strength–”

Anakin slammed his durasteel fist on the table, pushing a little in the Force to send the echoes ringing throughout the room. “That’s what he _wants_ you to do,” he snapped. ”He wants you to run, to scatter. If you stay on the defensive, then he controls the conflict.” He looked at Ahsoka. “Remember Onderon? Palpatine is the head of this snake. With Maul gone, cut off the head of this snake and the body will be easier to deal with.”

“That’s all well and good, Master Skywalker,” Captain Safoc simpered. “But without the Emperor’s location, we will be hard pressed to do _anything_ to him. Unless you know where he is?” 

“That will not be a problem, Captain,” Padmé said, turning a cool gaze on Safoc until he flushed and looked away. “I believe I know where the Emperor is.”

General Dodonna frowned. “My lady?” 

Padmé rose from her seat. Reaching into a hidden pocket, she pulled out a small datacube and inserted it into the holo-table next to Ahsoka’s. The list of planets attacked by the Empire slid aside, replaced by a planet with three moons that swelled until it took up the entire holo-table.

“The Alliance is not the only one with contacts,” Padmé told him. “And given the information relayed to me by one of mine, I have reason to believe that the Emperor is on Naboo.”

“You’re certain of this?” General Rieekan asked, skeptical. “I have no wish to offend, my lady, but Naboo is almost as well guarded as Imperial Center. Perhaps it would be easier to attack the Emperor in transit.”

“Ordinarily, General, I would agree with you,” Padmé replied. “But in this case, Palpatine’s over-confidence is to our benefit.” She pressed a few buttons and the two holograms shifted until they split the holo-table down the middle. “With this many fleets sent out to attack Alliance-friendly systems, there is a chance that Naboo has been left unguarded.”

Mutterings echoed around the table as the Alliance members glanced warily between themselves. 

“We also run the risk of throwing our forces against numbers too great for them,” a Mon Calamari said–Anakin blinked as he realized it was Captain Ackbar… Admiral Ackbar now, he supposed.

“–we miscalculate our odds, then it may be the end of the Rebel Alliance,” Ackbar continued.

“We need to do _something_ ,” Ahsoka interjected. “Anakin’s right. If we just let the Empire control what we do, then we’ve already lost.”

“And we’re just supposed to ignore the fact that the Empire is holding our families hostage?” asked a holographic figure whose name Anakin didn’t catch.

The room exploded with noise.

“I say we fight! I’m tired of–”

“–women and children? What about them–”

“–just no way we can fight against the entire Imperial Fleet–”

“–take them _all_ on. TIE pilots are no match for my squad of–”

Anakin spared a glance at Padmé, who was glaring at the squabbling representatives around the table like she wanted to brain them with the butt of a lightsaber. 

If this were the Senate, he would have reached out to brush his fingers against her shoulder. If this were the Senate, she would have looked back at him and made a face and they would have shared a private laugh in the crinkling of her eyes and the slight smirk he could never manage to hide. If this were the Senate…

He blinked as his fingers brushed fabric, catching the hem of Padmé’s sleeve without his conscious permission. She glanced down at the disturbance with a frown, saw his hand, and trailed her gaze up his arm until she met his eyes. There was a cold breadth of years there, lurking between them as the argument around the holotable ratcheted to new heights. Then her gaze softened, the gap thawing just slightly, and she tilted her head towards the ruckus with a faint smile and a raised eyebrow.

‘Go ahead,’ that look had meant, back before everything had gone to poodoo. ‘Get these idiots to shut up so they’ll actually listen to me.’

Anakin couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen it.

He rose, pulling the Force around him like a shield, and cleared his throat, the noise falling into the room like a lead weight through a thin sheet of ice, scattering the fragments of arguments and pulling every eye to him. “My wife wasn’t done speaking,” he said, his voice echoing with the Force. “Padmé?”

Padmé nodded. “Thank you, Anakin.” She pinned the room with a glance as several of the representatives present shuffled awkwardly in silence. 

“Today we stand at the edge of an abyss,” she told the room. “I will not order anyone to fight who does not wish to, but the fact remains that we are fast coming to the point where we either fight or we die. 

“I would remind this council that this is not my first time fighting against overwhelming odds. It is not even my tenth. Is there a risk to fighting the Emperor on his home ground? Yes. But what you’re all forgetting is that Naboo is my home also.” She leaned forward, her face lit by the pale blue holograms hovering above the table. “The galaxy is running scared, _we’re_ running scared. But if we can show the rest of the galaxy that despite our fear and our losses, we are willing to take the fight to the Emperor, then maybe we can show the galaxy that there is nothing to fear from an old man who plays at democracy.

“Palpatine thinks that we’re weak, that we won’t fight back against his tyranny.” She lifted her chin, her smile fiercer than Anakin ever remembered it being. “I say that we show him just how wrong he is.”

After a long moment of low conversations and muttered comments, General Dodonna stepped forward. “What is your suggestion, my lady?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin paced inside Padmé’s quarters, his feet wearing a path in the cramped space between the bed and a small work-bench, around the lone chair in the room–nailed to the floor like all furniture on a star destroyer–and past the door before circling back around again.

The meeting had lasted two hours before Padmé told him he could leave if he wanted, and now, four hours later, he found himself walking the floor in his wife’s rooms like a caged animal, trying not to think about the bed that only had room for one person. He knew that decisions via committee took a long time, but _this_ was _ridiculous._

The door opened just as he was rounding the workbench again, and he froze at the sight of his wife suddenly hesitating in the doorway.

“Padmé!” He faltered just as he took a step forward, his arms hovering somewhere between outstretched and pressed close to his sides. “I– I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure where else to go. But if you don’t want me here, then I can–”

The shocked, frozen look on Padmé’s face thawed, and her mouth quirked into a smile. “It’s alright, Ani. You’re welcome here.” She slid past him and settled into the chair–well padded, he noticed now–with a groan.

”Are... are you alright?”

She opened one eye and peered at him. “I’m almost fifty, Ani. Six hour meetings were hard enough in my twenties. Now they’re a _special_ exercise in patience.”

Anakin sat gingerly on the bed. “Do we have a plan, then?”

Padmé sighed. “Yes. Yes we do. The fleet will travel to Naboo and come at the planet under cover of the moons. Hopefully we’ll get close enough to strike before the Empire notices we’re there.”

“What do you need me for?”

She hesitated. “You... don’t have to fight, you know. Not if you don’t want to.”

Anakin blinked at her, trying not to feel like each word was a sucker punch to the gut. “You don’t want me to fight?”

“That’s not what I said,” Padmé replied, straightening in her chair.

“Then why would you ask me that!?”

“Because you’ve been fighting for a long time, Ani!” she snapped. “I didn’t want you fighting just because of some… some.. _obligation_.”

He reeled back in shock, his mouth opening to retort, but she didn’t let him.

“You’ve been fighting for years now!” Padmé said, bulldozing right over his protests. “And then there’s everything that’s happened: finding out you were in stasis, finding out about Luke and Leia, finding out about _me_.” Her voice wavered. “I didn’t want you to feel like I was forcing you into fighting. You should have a choice.”

“I choose to fight. It’s what I know, Padmé. It’s what I’m best at.” He frowned. “Is this about Leia and Luke? About their–”

“Ancestors, no! Draigh was a madman, I didn’t expect you you to–”

“To what?” he asked, nostrils flaring. “You didn’t expect me to fight for them, is that it? I may have only known them for less than a month, but they’re _our_ children, Padmé, did you think I would just leave them?”

“You were dead!”

Anakin flinched.

“For twenty years, Anakin,” Padmé choked, her cheeks shining with tears. “You were dead for twenty years. Our children grew up knowing they’d never meet their father. 

“And then you _do_ show up, and you look just the _same_ , and I’m not the same person I was twenty years ago. I’m _not_ , Ani.”

He stepped forward, but Padmé retreated and he froze. “I don’t care. I don’t– I’d die for you Padmé, you know that, I’d–”

“ _Don’t say that.”_ Her glare pinned him to the floor. “ _Don’t you_ ever _say that.”_

“Padmé, I…”

“Don’t make me your sole reason for living, Ani. Don’t you dare. Because that.. That…” She inhaled sharply, her face pinched with anger and exhaustion. “I will not be the cause of your death. _I will not._ ”

He reeled back, face burning as if he’d been slapped. “Then what…” His tongue lay thick and heavy in his mouth, an echo of the growing foreboding in his stomach. “What do you want me to do?”

Padmé sighed, little wisps of her silvered hair slipping free of her utilitarian braid and falling over her face. Anakin felt his fingers itch with the need to push those strands of hair back behind her ears, to turn her face up to his and make his wife smile again. A lifetime ago he would have done it.

A lifetime ago he wouldn’t have needed to.

“I won’t tell you what to do, Anakin,” she said, ignoring the flinch he gave at the sound of his own name – _Sith, how that hurt_. “But things are different now than they were. I imagine you need some time to process those changes.”

“What are you saying?”

Her face was her Senator’s mask, cool and refined and unruffled by emotion. If he hadn’t noticed the hint of red in her eyes and the blotchiness of her cheeks from crying, then he would have thought that she wasn’t bothered by their argument at all.

“You will need time to find your place in all of this. I suggest you take it.”

“What about you?”

The mask turned brittle. “I have a Rebellion to run and an invasion of my home planet to plan.” Her smile cracked. “I promise that I will be quite busy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	12. The Long Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> UNREST IN CORUSCANT! After a troubling dream that has Ahsoka worried about the Jedi Order’s continued survival, she heads back to the Jedi Temple, with Padme Amidala, her newborn twins, and several clones in tow.
> 
> There she finds a Temple in chaos and the looming might of the Dark Side, threatening to smother everything the Jedi Order has built.

_Silence. The Temple echoes with it. It trails through the dust and rattles in the corners, taking every skill she’s ever learned to keep her steps from clattering against the floor like a spill of cool river stones. Still, the silence knows._

_It knows, and it says nothing._

_She searches the rooms, the empty, dusty rooms, where flecks of light flicker in the sunbeams and tiny candle flames on barren altars dance at her passing. She runs down hallways and up staircases, through archways and across mezzanines. She searches and searches and searches and grinds screams against her clenched teeth because where is everyone? Where are the Knights and the Masters? Where are the younglings? The padawans? The_ people _? The Temple is so deserted she’s surprised it doesn’t collapse in on its own unwelcome emptiness._

_There’s a flicker of cloth around a corner._

_She chases after, not caring about noise now, her footfalls resounding through the empty halls, mocking her as she runs. She chases the scuff of a boot not her own, the dark curve of a hood, the faint gleam of a lightsaber in shadow. She chases until the rooms blur around her and her breath nearly saws her chest in half._

_The Temple burns._

_She stumbles over the body at her feet, choking on horror and ash. Around her are the sounds of dying, of blaster bolts and screams and the small, broken cries of the mortally wounded. The Force screams with each death and she screams with it, pressing her fingers against her head as if she could wrest herself away through sheer will – as if determination alone could smother the flames and bury the bodies._

_And save the living._

_The Jedi fall around her and she flinches at every body that hits the floor, flinches with every cry of rage and anguish, flinches when every blaster bolt makes its mark without being struck aside._

_White-armored soldiers lurk in the gloom and she knows that armor, she does, but their death-mask helmets aren’t the ones she’s used to. Her hands fly to her hips when a group of the soldiers turn towards her but her fingers land on cloth, not metal and – oh, she’d forgotten, how could she forget? But she runs when the air sizzles with blaster bolts, leaping off a balcony and pelting down a hallway. They follow of course, endless and implacable, pouring out of the formerly empty rooms until she’s pinned in a corner, surrounded. They aim and fire as one._

_A blue lightsaber bats the bolts aside._

_She opens her eyes to silence, a small pocket of it within the general roar of chaos and battle. There’s a figure in front of her, hooded and cloaked, with a blue lightsaber outstretched in a synth-leather glove._

_“Go, Ahsoka,” a voice growls._

_She stammers, confusion holding her tongue hostage. “I… what?”_

_A snarl, and the figure whirls to face her, Sith-yellow eyes gleaming beneath a darkened hood and a lightsaber raised to strike._

_“ **GO!** ” The saber comes down in one long, slow, mesmerizing arc, headed straight for her as flames began to lick their way down her spine._

~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Naboo, Chommell Sector, Mid Rim Territories; 3 years after the Battle of Geonosis_

Ahsoka shot awake, thrashing against the constricting sheets and scrambling for the sabers tucked underneath her pillow. Her breathing calmed as her fingers touched metal, but her heart still fluttered like a trapped bird, battering herself against her rib-cage. The echoes of the dream lingered, in the faint scorched flesh scent that clung to her nose and the fading line of pain that drifted down her spine, her cramping muscles a pale reflection of the real thing.

The air was chill and calm with the first lights of dawn peeking over the horizon and spilling through the shutters into her bedchamber. Mindful of her cramping back, she let herself breathe in the peace of the early morning, her heart finally slowing as the dream faded into wakefulness. _Well_ , she thought, glancing at the bed and listening to the songs of the native birds as they began to greet the morning, _I doubt I’m going back to sleep._

The veranda was peaceful as always when she emerged not a few minutes later, dressed in tan pants, boots, and a thick, sturdy vest often worn by independent cargo pilots. If it weren’t for the lightsabers at her hips, she could fade into any crowd in any bazaar in the Outer Rim. As it was, they still hung oddly on her belt, their weight and shape unlike the sabers she’d carried for years as a Jedi.

An image from her dream – _the Temple in flames, bodies everywhere –_ tugged on the edge of her mind, leaving Ahsoka frowning. She thought she knew what her nightmares were, she’d experienced them often enough, after all, but this… this felt more like prophecy than the makeshift images of an exhausted subconscious. The Force was silent, rippling only slightly when she reached for it, but it held no insights or sensations of oncoming doom, nothing but the quiet thoughts of the slumbering babies in the other room.

As if summoned, one of the children’s minds fluttered awake, reaching through the Force for Ahsoka as if drawn by her morbid thoughts. Grimacing and shoving her nightmare behind as heavy a shield as she could make, she crossed the veranda and slipped into a small nursery, an involuntary smile curling her mouth as she stood over the closest of the two cradles. 

Rich, brown eyes fluttered open, gazing wide at the adult standing over her before scrunching tight in preparation for a scream.

“Shh, shh,” Ahsoka soothed, reaching for the infant before she could make a sound. “Let’s not wake your brother, alright little Leia?” She projected reassuring thoughts at the little girl, smiling when Leia decided against screaming in favor of absently tracing the blue and white stripes down Ahsoka’s lekku. 

She let the cool breeze coming off the lake soothe them both as she carried Leia out onto the veranda, the early morning light reflecting off the waters and splashing rippling patterns onto the ivy-wrapped columns and across the high, tiled ceiling. Birdsong swelled all around the villa as dozens of tiny songbirds heralded the advent of the sun.

Ahsoka wasn’t sure how long she stood there, caught in the peaceful air of the Lake Country, when the Force shivered, pinging against her senses. Alarmed – the birds had fallen silent – she casually switched Leia over to her left hip, leaving her right hand free to hover over her primary saber. The only sounds were the faint wash of the lake on the stone dock in the garden below and the rustling of leaves in the faint breeze.

Blaster fire shattered the tableau, arcing towards Ahsoka’s face from the armored figures that leapt over the terrace railing. Her saber flashing, she deflected the shots back at her attackers, clutching Leia’s head with her left hand to keep the baby pressed close to her. A few of the assailants fell, smoking holes in their black armor where the blaster bolts had struck, but more poured over the railing, charging forward with their blasters raised. Ahsoka cursed and stepped backwards, unable to close with the commandos – and they were commandos, judging from the make and thickness of their somehow familiar armor – with a three-month old clutched to her side. But neither could the commandos move forward, their momentum stymied by the whirling slashes of Ahsoka’s saber.

Miraculously, Leia never made a sound, despite the uncomfortable pressure of Ahsoka’s arm wrapped around her tiny body. Instead she merely stared at the streaks of light the white blade of the lightsaber left in the air, blinking each time a blaster bolt was struck aside.

One of the commandos seemed frustrated at the stalemate, falling back and fumbling at his belt for a spherical object that– 

Ahsoka cursed, reaching with the Force to shove the commandos back, but not before the one commando let fly with the thermal detonator he’d been readying, flinging the explosive at Ahsoka and Leia with devastating accuracy. The blast roared towards them, carrying shards of the formerly pristine tile floors and flaming bits of the climbing vines from the supporting columns. She managed to shove most of the explosion away from her, curling her body around Leia in an effort to shield her from the flying debris, but despite Ahsoka’s best efforts, stinging shards of the colonnade sliced into her back and shoulders, sliding between the miniscule gap between her arm and her chest to lay a single red line across Leia’s downy cheek.

Leia’s shock and pain washed over Ahsoka’s mind, leaving the former Jedi gasping under the onslaught. For a moment, she almost didn’t realize that Leia was screaming until Ahsoka heard Luke echo his sister from inside the nursery, his fear and distress blazing in the Force until the twins’ Force-presences burned like binary stars. Blaster shots sounded behind Ahsoka, thankfully not hitting her where she knelt on the ground, trying to recover her equilibrium. But when the shots continued – this time with two different types of blaster noises ringing in her montrals – she realized that Luke and Leia had managed to cause enough of a racket that the rest of the villa’s inhabitants had awoken and were coming to her defense.

Once the ringing in her head eased, Ahsoka held Leia tight and whirled back around, her saber held in front of her and the baby. But Rex, with one final blaster shot to the head of a feebly twitching commando, reholstered his gun and strode towards her, concern creasing the lines of his face.

“Are you and the kid alright?” he asked.

Ahsoka checked Leia – only sniffling now – and grimaced at the scratch on the little girl’s face. It had bled freely, painting Leia’s cheek in a macabre wash of red but not doing any other obvious damage. The blood was even clotting already. With a speed born of unfortunate experience, Ahsoka probed gently at Leia’s cheek, eliciting a whimpering groan, but the cut didn’t appear too deep or to need any kind of stitches.

She nodded at Rex. “We should be fine. Did any of them get to Luke? Or Padmé?”

“Luke is fine,” a voice spoke from inside the nursery, the speaker stepping out onto the demolished veranda with said baby in hand.

Fives – with Luke tucked onto his hip – still looked more haggard than he had before he’d gone to Kamino with Tup, but the drugged paranoia that Ahsoka had seen in the warehouse on Coruscant was gone, leaving behind a calm that was belied by the faint circles underneath the former ARC Trooper’s eyes. Still, he held his blaster steady with a familiarity born of lifetime practice and held onto Luke in much the same way that Ahsoka held Leia, clutched into his off side with a hand supporting the back of the boy’s head.

“We need to move, General,” he said, “Some of the attackers managed to get around you and Commander Rex, so there are probably more in other areas of the villa.”

“Not anymore there’s not,” a woman snapped as Ahsoka, Rex, and Fives all snapped to a defensive position until they saw Padmé picking her way through the rubble-filled hallway that led to the inner bedroom suites, followed by her two handmaidens, Dormé and Moteé. All three women looked a bit worse for wear, but none of them showed any obvious injuries.

Padmé, who’d been making her way towards the nursery, changed trajectory when Leia made a mewling cry – Leia’s usual precursory notice to a screaming fit – and tucked her daughter into the cradle of her arms as Ahsoka handed her over, frowning at the bloody slice on Leia’s cheek.

“Thermal detonator,” Ahsoka offered weakly. “I wasn’t quite able to block in the blast in time and–”

“You kept her safe,” Padmé smiled. “Thank you.”

Rex’s comlink crackled. “Commander, we have a problem.”

“What is it, Torc?” Rex replied.

“We’re in the rooftop courtyard. General Tano needs to see this.”

“Go,” Fives said when Ahsoka glanced at Padmé and hesitated. “I’ll keep them safe.”

Ahsoka and Rex set off for the roof at a run, hands on their weapons in case of any hidden survivors. Here and there they saw blaster bolts speckling the walls – evidence of Padmé and her handmaidens defending against their own attackers – and bodies in black armor lying crumpled in the hallways. Something about the armor niggled at Ahsoka’s memory, slipping away whenever she tried to pursue it. Despite the similarities, it wasn’t clone trooper armor that the mystery commandos had been wearing, the helmets weren’t quite right–

“General! Over here!”

Ahsoka and Rex veered over to one of the smaller rooftop gardens, ducking under a spray of hanging flowers to find Jax, Torc, and Kix crouched over another group of dead commandos, their expressions grim.

Torc pointed at something hanging from one of the commando’s belts. “Is that what I think it is, General?”

Ahsoka leaned closer, turning the body until the metal cylinder hanging from the belt flopped into plain sight–

She stiffened, staring at the lightsaber hilt as it gleamed dully in the morning light. The hilt wasn’t one she recognized, though it favored the simplistic style that most Jedi adopted when making a lightsaber. But to see it on the hip of a strange commando after an attack on a former senator… 

“Are there any more?” 

Kix handed her two more sabers. “Just these ones.”

Her stomach churned. “Check for more. I want a full sweep before we leave.” She turned on her heel, walking briskly back to where she’d left Padmé and the kids. Rex scrambled to keep up.

“Where are we headed?” he asked.

“To Coruscant. The only way those commandos could have gotten those lightsabers is if they killed Jedi to get them.”

Rex frowned. “If the Separatists were going to kill the Senator they would have used droids, not–”

“It wasn’t the Separatists.” Her hands twitched over her own lightsabers. “Did the armor look familiar to you?”

“A few of the plates are similar to clone trooper armor–” his breath caught. “No. Those weren’t brothers, they would never have gone after their own.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Not clones, no. But I bet if we checked those armor designs against some of the requisitions for those new stormtroopers Chancellor Palpatine commissioned, I bet we’d find some similarities.

Rex stared at her, horrified. “The Chancellor sent his own troops to kill a former Senator? If the Senate got wind of that–”

“Who does Padmé have at her house, Rex? Remember we didn’t exactly leave the GAR on good terms. Besides,” her lips thinned, “I’ve been checking the body counts. I’m pretty sure they knew where I would be and planned accordingly, because the strongest attack was at that veranda I was on.”

Rex’s gaze was flinty. “If that’s the case, Ahsoka, then we have a problem.”

She nodded. “I agree. Which is why I’m going to Coruscant.”

“If Palpatine ordered this hit–”

“Then the entire Jedi Order is in danger! I might not be part of them anymore, but I can’t just leave them to–” she choked, her panic surging against her control.

His expression softened. “You’re not going alone.”

She opened her mouth to argue, only to close it under the scrutiny of Rex’s steady glare.

“If you’re going to Coruscant, then I’m coming too,” Padmé said, stomping up the stairs behind them. 

Rex’s hands twitched on his blasters, and Ahsoka turned to face her friend. “Padmé, the commandos were here for me. I’m not sure that’s such–”

“They may have been here for you, Ahsoka, but they also attacked my children and me.” Padmé lifted her chin. “I want answers.”

Ahsoka glanced helplessly at Dormé and Moteé, who had come up behind Padmé and were standing guard with their blasters pointed at the ground. Moteé gave her an understanding smile, but didn’t move to gainsay her friend.

Ahsoka sighed. “Alright, but it would be safer if you stayed on the ship.”

“Noted,” Padmé replied, resettling a now-sleeping Leia on her hip.

“With respect, your Excellency,” Rex said. “We’re going to need to bug out fast. I don’t want to stay long enough to find out these assassins’ back-up plan.”

“Agreed.” She handed Leia to Dormé. “With your permission then, Commander Rex, I will need your men’s assistance with getting a vehicle.”

Rex nodded, motioning to Kix, who’d come down while Padmé and Ahsoka were arguing, to join Fives and the two handmaidens in following Padmé towards the villa’s on-site speeder bay (provided it was still intact). Ahsoka watched them go, frowning.

“We’ll keep them safe,” he said, coming up beside her.

She huffed a laugh. “Don’t promise anything you can’t keep, Rex. Skyguy always said that Padmé was a force all on her own.” She sighed. “No, I’m not worried about Padmé. Not too much anyways.” She looked at the strange lightsaber she still clutched in her fist. “I have a really bad feeling that something’s coming, and that whatever it is, we won’t be able to see it until it’s too late.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coruscant’s orbit was choked with Separatist warships – or the remains of them anyways – when their ship, a weathered Taylander-class shuttle, reached the system. Its battered hull, so unlike the shiny chromium overlay of the Nubian Diplomatic Barge that Padmé usually used, let them slip in without notice behind all the other harried freighters and shuttle pilots that waited for clearance to land on the planet below.

Rex joined Ahsoka at the shuttle’s viewport, his eyes dark as he took in all the wreckage around them. “I wonder how the Seppies managed it,” he mused. “They’ve never gotten this close before.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “However they managed it, it means things are worse than I thought.” She looked at him. “We need to get to the Temple.”

He grimaced. “Without clearance we’re not even getting on the planet. If they look too closely they’ll notice that most of the shuttle’s ‘passengers’ are clones and then we’ll really be in trouble.”

“And we can’t use Padmé’s clearance to get us through…”

“Not if you want another assassination attempt.” He shook his head. “We’ll just have to wait and see. I doubt the GAR will be looking for defected clones to be coming _back_ to Coruscant.”

“We’ll be careful, Rex,” she patted his arm.

“You say that like we’ve never had anything go wrong.”

She grinned. “Yes, well. Now we’ll be extra careful.” Her smile fell. “Have you ever had the feeling that something bad has already happened and you’re going to be the last person to hear about it?”

“You feeling that right now?”

She rolled her shoulders, trying to quell the churning nausea in her stomach. “Ever since we left Naboo. I can’t seem to shake it.”

“If working with the Jedi has taught me anything,” he said, “it’s to listen whenever they say they ‘have a bad feeling’ about something.”

“Maybe…” she said absently, staring at the planet below. “I’m not sure we can stop this one, Rex.”

He clapped her on the shoulder. “You’ll do what you can, Ahsoka, and we’ll follow. Like always.”

The shuttle tilted downwards, aiming for the more disreputable landing areas in the edges of the Industrial District, far away from the GAR shipyards and anyone who would be able to recognize a clone (or a former Jedi) on sight. As the ship leveled out, Rex left to go speak in an undertone to his brothers, who were clustered around the port-side viewport. Ahsoka broke away shortly after, winding her way around the various passenger seats to where Padmé was sitting, her children cradled in her lap.

“I think you should stay on the ship,” Ahsoka warned. “I can’t make you, obviously, but I think you should. We don’t know what we’ll face out there.”

Padmé nodded. “I was planning on talking to a few of my contacts, see if they know anything about an assassination attempt by stormtroopers.”

Ahsoka blinked at her in shock, and Padmé made a face. “I figured it out about the same time you did. I voted on that bill, remember?” She sniffed. “I try to stay informed about what new military iniquities our _illustrious_ Chancellor authorizes.” Her face fell and her fingers twitched against Luke’s sleeping cheek. “I’m not blind to the ramifications, you know. That a sitting Chancellor tried to have a former senator killed. I just can’t…” she sighed. “I can’t believe that the Republic has come to this.”

Ahsoka hugged her, careful not to smother the children being held between them. “It might just be an over-ambitious traitor, looking to curry favor with the Separatists by killing you.”

Padmé smiled sadly. “You don’t really believe that, do you.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “Something tells me this isn’t that easy.”

Padmé patted Ahsoka’s hand. “I’ll stay on the ship. Or at least near it.” She glanced down at her sleeping son and daughter. “I’m not going to risk them if I don’t have to.”

With a final hug, Ahsoka left to join the cluster of clones, tilting her head at the pile of unmarked Phase 2 armor they’d seemingly unearthed from nowhere.

“I presume you have a plan, Rex?” she asked.

Jax grinned at her. “It’s the perfect disguise. Most people can’t tell one clone from another anyways, and in unmarked armor they’ll _definitely_ be confused.”

She blinked and raised a brow-marking at Rex, who grimaced slightly.

“It’ll let us be able to escort you in,” he told her. “And if something goes wrong, we can get you out easier with this than civilian clothing.”

“I can’t bring all of you with me, Rex.”

“It’ll be me, Saber, and Fives shadowing you. The rest will stay here and guard the senator.”

“Don’t worry, General,” Torc spoke up. “We won’t let anything happen to them.”

She grinned at him. “Trust me, Torc. I’m more worried about something happening to you. You’ve never worked with Padmé before.”

The men laughed, ribbing each other with more and more outlandish claims while Rex handed her a worn, hooded poncho. It, thankfully, only smelled faintly of dust and seemed reasonably clean, so she slipped it on over her vest and trousers, making sure the hood covered her montrals and the folds of the poncho concealed the lightsabers at her hips. All hilarity gone, Fives, Rex, and Saber slipped cloaks on over their unmarked armor, each of them tucking the various folds of fabric until they could get at their weapons unhindered.

They slid into the mass of people heading home from the late afternoon shift at the factories and slowly made their way to the Temple, catching short rides from taxis and longer rides from the public shuttles when they could. The Force shivered and twitched the closer they got to the Temple, until Ahsoka’s hands were clenching reflexively on this hilts of her lightsabers and even Rex, Saber, and Fives had picked up on her uneasiness.

Rex put a quelling hand on her elbow, his eyes flicking over the shuttle they’d boarded, scanning for potential threats. Finding none, he tilted his head at her questioningly, but Ahsoka just grimaced in response, trying to ignore the frigid coil of foreboding lingering on the back of her neck.

Something was definitely wrong. In all her years on Coruscant, at the Jedi Temple, the Force had never felt so unstable as it did now. But no matter what she tried, or how hard she reached, the only thing she could sense with any certainty was an impression of approaching peril, like the slow, inexorable swell of a storm surge, waiting to smash against a crumbling cliff edge and send it crashing into oblivion.

The Force froze, teetering on the edge of oblivion or sanctuary, and she froze with it, her breaths deafening against the ringing in her head. In the corner of her eye she saw Rex and Saber fumble with their belt pouches for their old, Republic-issued holo-projectors, a hooded figure winking into existence as they turned them on. Despite the cacophonous silence in the Force and the undertone of ambivalent conversation from the rest of the occupants in the public shuttle, Ahsoka heard the figure’s recorded words perfectly.

“Execute Order 66.”

There was a pause, a moment of breathless resignation in the instance before the wave came crashing down, and then…

The moment shattered…

The Force _**burned**_.

Ahsoka didn’t realize she was shaking, uncontrollable shudders that rattled her teeth, until Rex and Fives hustled her off the public transport and into a narrow, abandoned alleyway between a couple of run-down bars. Saber followed after, blocking off the alley with a flat scowl and a ready wariness in his stance that served to warn away even the most persistent of curious onlookers.

“Kid?” Rex’s voice was gentle, the press of his hands on her shoulders bringing her back to herself, one indrawn breath at a time. The lines of his face were harsh in the low, artificial lights from the bars, but his focus was entirely on her, even in the Force, and she used it to pull herself out of the maelstrom of grief and despair slowly overtaking the Light Side of the Force.

“The Temple,” she gasped, still breathless from the churning chaos clouding her consciousness. “We have to get to the Temple.”

Rex glanced up at Fives, but the other man was already moving. He edged around Saber and disappeared past the end of the alley while Ahsoka fought to control her agitated emotions. 

“The transmission,” she asked once her breathing evened out. “What was it about?”

Rex glanced aside, his expression wooden. “It was a contingency order. The GAR had them set aside in case…” he sighed, his shoulder slumping. “It’s an order to eliminate the Jedi, by any means necessary.”

“No,” she whispered, horror clenching her throat in a vice grip. “No, you can’t–” She reached for the Temple, desperately searching for the beacon of light that it had always been…

Death answered back.

Ahsoka retched – thankfully turned away by Rex’s quick hands – and staggered until her back hit the wall, her mind shying away from the ugliness in the Force. Rex watched her, his face carefully blank, though he couldn’t quite hide his own grief and horror in his eyes.

“There will be clones there… at the Temple,” she said.

Rex’s facade cracked and he flinched, just a little. “It’s possible.”

She stared at him until he met her gaze. “I can’t just stand by and let this happen, Rex. I’m going to the Temple. If you can’t–”

“No.” His voice was firm. “I’m coming with you. If there’s any clones there that are…” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “They’re no brothers of mine.”

“Rex…”

“He’s right,” Saber said, having come closer while they were talking. “Our brothers have been given plenty of time to choose.” He grimaced. “Besides, the GAR is mostly stormtroopers now.”

She searched their faces, hesitant to reach into the Force, tumultuous as it was, to read their emotions. Grim certainty stared back, from each of them, and Ahsoka found herself breathing easier.

A low whistle pulled their attention out to the street where Fives, grinning, leaned against a surprisingly fancy-looking speeder, resplendent in deep red and racing stripes, purred idly.

“What?” he said, when enough quizzical looks turned his direction. “You said we needed to move.”

Rex scoffed, but set a hand under Ahsoka’s elbow to pull her upright and get her moving down the alley. They piled into the open-top speeder, Ahsoka sliding into the pilot’s seat, and she slammed her foot onto the acceleration as soon as they’d settled into their seats.

She landed the speeder at a little-used entrance to the Temple district, an unmarked, dingy doorway that opened onto one of the lower levels of the Industrial Sector. It had been half covered by various piles of refuse, but the locking mechanism (accessible only by a Jedi) lifted out of its housing without a hitch, rotated, then settled back in. The door slid open halfway before halting with a jarring crunch, its motor grinding. 

Saber and Fives shoved the door the rest of the way, the metal groaning under the strain, before following Ahsoka into the dim tunnel beyond. 

It had been about a year into the war when Anakin had taken Ahsoka to a junker’s shop – “out on the town” as he called it; Master Kenobi had only rolled his eyes and laughed – to grab a few new parts for the _Twilight._ But instead of heading for the main entrances, Anakin had nudged Ahsoka aside and led her to a long, sparsely lit hallway. The hallway had twisted and turned, snaking down into the lower levels of the Temple district, until it had ended in a door, covered in dust and grime. 

“In case you need a way out,” he’d told her, motioning at their footsteps in the dust. “As you can see, no one comes down here, and most people trying to catch you will go up and out, towards the hangar bays.”

She’d laughed. “And who’s going to chase me out of the Temple?”

Anakin’s face had been uncharacteristically solemn. “You never know, Snips. Just.. remember this is here. Just in case.”

“Of all the times for you to be paranoid, Skyguy,” Ahsoka muttered, trailing her hand along the dusty wall as she led her men upwards to her former home. “Why couldn’t it have been before you vanished into the Outer Rim?”

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer.

Lumens flickered as they passed, fighting to light the hallway through a haze of grime and disuse. As they climbed, Ahsoka found herself hesitating at each juncture and turn, pressed back by the looming presence of the dark side. Even Rex, Fives, and Saber were beginning to react to it, their hands lingering warily at the handles of their blasters.

The path dead-ended on a door cast in fluttering shadows from the erratic lumens. The lock panel was dark, with not even faint smudges in the dust to show when it had been last used. At her nod, Saber examined the lock panel, but shook his head after only a few moments. Ahsoka huffed, but lifted her saber from her belt as Rex, Saber, and Fives moved to flank the doorway. 

The metal gave easily under the heat of her blade, and Ahsoka was through the door in minutes, wincing at the clang it made when it fell in pieces to the floor. The clones followed after, blasters raised, with Rex on her left side and Fives and Saber taking her right and the rear. A low roar came from the levels above them, and Ahsoka shivered at the sheer _wrongness_ in the sound. They pressed forwards, wary but determined, and emerged from a service stairwell into a nightmare.

Even in this side hallway, Jedi lay everywhere, riddled with blaster bolts, their numbers surpassed only by the lightsaber-stricken bodies of the stormtroopers scattered beside them. Ahsoka gaped at the sight, her stomach churning, and nearly lowered her lightsaber in shock until a shot from Rex had her snapping into a defensive stance. The lone stormtrooper that had been aiming at her fell, the eye socket of his helmet a smoking ruin, and she twitched at the thud he made when he hit the floor.

“Ahsoka,” Rex said, his voice tense, “We need to keep moving.”

Ahsoka exhaled and nodded, gritting her teeth as she carefully picked her way across the body-strewn floor. She didn’t look at the faces to see if any were familiar. She didn’t look at any of the carelessly tumbled lightsaber hilts to see if she recognized any. And she definitely didn’t have a hitch in her breath every time she made eye contact with the blank gaze of a Jedi that would never see again. 

Fives was waiting at the end of the hallway, his blaster trained on the darkened rooms beyond. “Heard blaster fire coming from here, General,” he said. “There might still be some fighting.”

Ahsoka reached out into the Force, flinching at the maelstrom of emotions that greeted her. “There’s still fighting” she gritted out, shaking her head to clear it. “This is just the edges of it.”

“It’s up to you then, General.” said Saber, coming up to stand behind a silent Rex. “It’s your call where we go.”

Her gaze caught on a practice saber, the hilt sized for youngling hands, and she turned away before she could see who’d wielded it. “We go deeper,” she said, anger coloring the edges of her words. “We save as many as we can.” She glanced at Rex. “We’ll need someone to extract us.”

He nodded. “On it.”

She looked back at the darkened doorway, gaping like a yawning mouth, and ignited her shoto blade, both lightsabers throwing an eerie white cast over everything as she strode into the darkness.

They came across several more sights like the one that had greeted them in that hallway, each time picking off the stormtroopers that lingered behind, before moving closer and closer into the heart of the Temple. The roar of battle grew louder, individual explosions and blaster fire becoming more distinct the closer they moved.

The Hall of a Thousand Fountains was a warzone. Jedi and stormtroopers faced off in small groups scattered between broken and leaking fountains, the burbling waters turning somehow sinister under the weight of blaster fire, explosions, and the screams of battle. Fire raged at the entrance to the training halls, an impassable wall of searing heat that flamethrower bearing stormtroopers whipped into an even greater frenzy. 

At the nearest fountain, not even one hundred meters away, stormtroopers clustered around a small knot of Jedi, their sabers whirling desperately against the hail of blaster bolts. A stormtrooper fell and Ahsoka breath froze in her chest as she recognized the Jedi – no, the _younglings_ – who fought so desperately for their lives. She leapt forward with a snarl, Rex and the others following after, and bisected the first stormtrooper she reached before shoving her way through the rest with judicious swings of her sabers.

The troopers, too focused on killing the younglings they’d trapped, fell easily underneath her blades as she charged through to the younglings, who looked up in startled amazement.

“Master Tano?” Katooni asked, her face smudged with weariness and blaster soot.

Her fellow younglings – Genodi, Zatt, Byph, and Gungi – looked so different from the time Ahsoka saw them last, laughing and full of incredulous triumph over their adventure on Florrum. Now… now they just looked too tired to be afraid. Zatt and Gungi flinched when Rex, Fives, and Saber moved closer, their hands clenching on their sabers until Ahsoka reached out and touched their shoulders.

“It’s alright,” she told them. “They’re with me. We’re here to get you out.”

“Out?” Ganodi asked, her starry eyes dulled. “How are we going to get out? They have… they have the Temple surrounded. They–” her voice stuttered on a sob.

Zatt patted her elbow. “Ganodi’s right, Master Tano. The stormtroopers– ” his eyes flicked curiously at the clones – “they have us outnumbered. And we’ve already lost…” he sighed and all of the younglings curled in on themselves. “We already lost Petro.”

None of them looked at the small, still body that lay crumpled on the floor.

Ahsoka’s hands tightened on her sabers. “You stick with me and we keep moving. Rex and I are working on an extraction plan.”

Byph warbled in suspicion, his wide-set eyes narrowing at Fives, who was nearest, checking the fallen stormtroopers’ armor.

“They’re with me,” Ahsoka told him. “And we’re…” she nearly choked on her next words. “We’re not with the Republic.” 

The younglings looked alarmed at that, but they scrambled back into position quickly as a new group of stormtroopers noticed their fallen comrades and charged over. Ahsoka, Rex, Saber, and Fives closed ranks around them, the clones falling to one knee as they raised their blasters and opened fire. 

The new group of stormtroopers was easily dealt with; too used to dealing with panicked younglings to manage a former Jedi General and three clone veterans. But then another group came, and another, and by the fifth group, Ahsoka lips were thinned almost to the point of invisibility in her anxiousness. A sixth group came up, intend on finishing them off, and she flashed a hand signal at Rex and Fives, nodding at the oncoming troops. 

In a synchronized movement, both men swiped a grenade from the back of their ammo belts, popped the timer, and threw them in a high arc. The troopers tried to scatter, but were hampered by their fallen comrades and couldn’t get out of the way of the explosives.

“We’ll need to move after that one, Ahsoka,” Rex said, surveying the damage the grenades had caused with a critical eye. “We can’t afford to get bogged down here.”

Ahsoka nodded curtly. “I’ll head out first. Younglings…” she turned to see them all standing ready behind her. “Follow close behind me. I don’t want to see anyone breaking from the group. Rex, Fives, and Saber will cover our backs.”

She burst out from behind a column and the whole of the Hall of a Thousand Fountains spread out before her. The fighting had resurged in the time she took to save the younglings, the Jedi mounting one last desperate offense against the oncoming stormtroopers. Ahsoka scanned the Hall, noting pockets where the fighting had lulled, and trying to figure out how to get five younglings across without getting them all killed. 

“General,” Rex called. “Two-fer has transport. He can pick us up in the East Hangar bays. If we can get there.”

She grimaced. The East Hangars were all the across the Temple, and – she glanced at the flaming doors to the training halls – the easiest way to get to them was cut off. Ahsoka adjusted their course, heading her group towards two knights who were pressed against a column by a platoon of stormtroopers. They plowed into the troopers like a crashing gunship, distracting them enough that the two female knights – an emerald-skinned twi'lek and a dark-skinned human – managed to regroup before pressing their own advantage.

When the last of that group of troopers fell, Ahsoka stepped forward before the knights could start acting on the twitchiness she saw in their hands as they looked at Rex and his brothers. “They’re with me.”

The twi’lek looked Ahsoka over. “Ahsoka Tano, I presume? I thought you left.”

“I did,” Ahsoka replied neutrally.

The Twi’lek grimaced. “The assistance is appreciated, but it might have been best if you stayed away.” She gestured at herself and the other Knight. “I’m Saera, this is Moira.”

Moira set her lightsabers back on her belt, glancing over the younglings clustered behind Ahsoka critically. “I’m guessing you have a plan?”

“I have an extraction point at the East Hangar bays,” Ahsoka told her. “We can get at least some of the Jedi out.”

“The younglings,” Saera spoke up. “If we can save as many younglings as possible…”

“We can do nothing if we get ourselves killed,” Moira replied, grabbing grenades that had scattered on the floor when the troopers fell. She looked up at Ahsoka. “Go. We’ll follow.”

Ahsoka moved out, Rex on her heels. There was another way to the East Hangar bays that didn’t go through the training halls, but the corridor to get there was on the other side of the Hall of a Thousand Fountains, through the worst armed conflict the Jedi had seen since the Sacking of Coruscant. 

The group cut through the fighting, with Ahsoka at its head and the younglings in the center, they aimed straight for a side corridor, notable only for the scorch marks on the open doors. The world was chaos, Jedi and troopers dying left and right. Most of the troopers didn’t even notice Ahsoka’s group, so focused on killing the individual Jedi they were hunting that they couldn’t see her pass by them until it was too late. Two-thirds of the way across the hall, with the bulk of the fighting behind them, Ahsoka felt the Force pull at her attention, nudging her towards the doorway that led to the High Council tower. 

Stormtroopers were clustered around the door, setting charges, and as Ahsoka watched, the trooper scrambled backwards, bracing behind nearby columns as the door exploded, sending a wave of smoke and shrapnel into the room. Ahsoka paused, her steps faltering as turned towards the scene. There had to have been more than just a breaching charge that the Force wanted to show her…

A double-bladed golden lightsaber ignited within the cloud of smoke.

Unbidden, Ahsoka turned and bolted towards the doors, flashing a quick series of hand signals at Rex for him and the rest of the group to keep heading for the Hangar. A double-bladed lightsaber like that meant one of the Temple guards, and for one of them to be staying in the High Council tower while the rest of the Temple burned… 

She hurtled towards the troopers, sabers extended, but at the last moment, a trooper – perhaps the only one who paid attention to his helmet tech – turned and shouted a warning at Ahsoka’s charge. The rest of the troopers turned en masse, their blasters coming around and firing in her direction as she darted towards them. Her sabers caught most of the bolts, and she danced around the others, slipping sideways into the places between the shots, and moving forward, always forward. 

She was on top of them when the Temple guard darted out of the smoke-filled room beyond, his golden, double-bladed saber held above his head like an avenging spirit. Caught between Ahsoka and the guard, the troopers fell quickly, save for the one that yanked a detonator off his belt and charged at Ahsoka, the grenade beeping more and more frantically with every second. 

Ahsoka saw him at the last second and leapt backwards, putting valuable space between her and the coming explosion. But the blast still tossed her back into the room leading to the Council tower and left her montrals ringing. Gloved fingers brushed her forehead, and she inhaled sharply at the feel of the Force lingering in their path, sending faint waves of golden energy into her exhausted muscles.

She staggered upright, and met the gaze of a Zabrak male in a scorched Temple Guard’s uniform, his helmet in pieces and abandoned on the floor. His eyebrow twitched as he looked her over. 

“Welcome back to the Temple, Ms. Tano. I would say well met, but…” he said.

Ahsoka grinned, sobering at the sharp pain that echoed along the nerves of her torso. “You’re guarding something, aren’t you? Something in the Council Chambers.”

The Zabrak’s face fell carefully blank before abruptly sagging with weariness. “There are younglings in the High Council chambers. With the door gone…”

“I have an exit point. A transport waiting in the East Hangar bays,” Ahsoka blurted out and the Guard glanced at her sharply. “If we can get the younglings to the Hangar, we can get them out.”

A smile shone briefly at the corners of his eyes before fading behind determination. He turned to face the doors, igniting his saber once more. “Go. Get the younglings. I will hold the door.”

She hesitated, but quickly scrambled into the elevator, punching in the code to take her to the High Council chambers as the tower shook around her. As the elevator car rose, Ahsoka heard the distant sounds of blaster bolts in the lower levels of the tower, but as she got higher, the noise died away until it was as silent as any tomb she’d ever visited.

The antechamber was unchanged from the last time she saw it, though smoke drifted outside the windows, spiraling upwards as the Temple burned. The doors to the Council chambers slid open as she approached and her heart stuttered at the empty room. 

“No,” she whispered, her hand tightening on her lightsaber hilt as she stepped into the room, hesitant at what she’d find. But then she caught the telltale edges of robes peeking around the sides of the Council chairs and the tiny, stifled breaths of children trying desperately to be quiet.

At the scuff of her boot on the tiled floor, a boy peered around the edge of Master Yoda’s chair, his blond hair streaked with ash and his face blotchy with tears. He hesitated at her civilian clothes, so unlike the robes that most Jedi wore, but relaxed at the sight of the lightsabers she’d carefully reattached to her belt.

He stepped forward as the rest of the children emerged from behind the Council chairs. “Master Tano,” he said. “There’s too many of them. What are we going to do?”

The Force… twitched… but amidst the chaos seeping up from the lower levels, Ahsoka hardly noticed.

“You’re going to follow me,” she told him. She glanced at the other children. “You’re all going to follow me, and I’m going to get you out of here.”

“But we don’t have any lightsabers,” a little Tholothian girl piped up, wringing her hands.

“I have friends downstairs,” Ahsoka told her. “They’re going to help us get to a ship.”

“Is it Master Dekar?” a blue-skinned Twi’leki boy stepped forward, his lekku twining in agitation. “He told us to hide up here and that we shouldn’t come down, not for any reason.”

Ahsoka nodded. “He’s downstairs and he’s waiting for us.”

The children all glanced at each other, fear writ clearly on their faces. Finally the Twi’lek nodded and stepped forward, the rest of the children following shortly after.

She smiled tightly before pushing herself back to standing. “Come on, we need to move quickly.” 

The younglings clustered behind her, crowding against the back of the elevator. Ahsoka slipped her lightsabers back off her belt, igniting the blades and sinking into a ready stance. She winced at the hollow booms that echoed up from the base of the tower, rattling the elevator car in its traces, and again at the whimpers from the younglings as they descended into the battlefield chaos of the Force. 

The doors opened to show Master Dekar highlighted by flame, his golden-bladed lightsaber pike a molten blur in the smoke, deflecting blaster bolts with deceptive ease. Stormtroopers were clustered in the hall beyond. Some lay collapsed on the floor, but many more were tucked behind the nearby pillars. At Ahsoka and the younglings’ arrival, the blaster fire, already a steady stream, became a veritable flood and started leaking around Master Dekar’s defense.

Ahsoka swatted at a bolt that would have hit a little too close to the younglings before stepping forwards, her own lightsabers whirling to cover the gaps. Dekar was laboring, a fine sheen of sweat coating his forehead under his horns. Ahsoka’s comlink was blinking fitfully, a communication no doubt from Rex, asking where she was, and she hurriedly slapped at it.

“Ahsoka, status?” Rex asked.

She grimaced. “Strained. I’ve got a Temple Guard here and a number of younglings and we’re pinned in by about…” she counted quickly, “25 stormtroopers.”

“We’re on our way.”

“No!” she snapped. “You need to get the other younglings to the East Hangar.”

“Fives is handling that,” came Rex’s cool response. “Along with the two Jedi you found. We’ve picked up a couple of padawans as well, so they’re well defended.” His voice softened. “It’s you I’m worried about, Ahsoka. Saber picked up some chatter. They’re bringing in gunships to shoot down the towers. You need to leave. Now.”

A bolt zinged by her head, nearly singeing her lekku. “Stang!” she hissed. “Alright, alright. Buzz me when you’re in position.”

“Understood.”

Ahsoka turned and waved the younglings farther back against the side walls and away from the doorway. “Keep your heads down and cover your ears,” she warned. “We have help coming.”

Dekar glanced at her curiously when she stepped back up beside him, their blades turning in concert. 

“I have friends coming.” She nodded at the stormtroopers. “They should be able to help with that. Just… try not to hit them.”

“I presume they’re clones?” he asked dryly. “No need to look so surprised. It is well known that most of your men left when you did. And considering that clones are designed for loyalty, it’s not surprising that–”

“They’re my friends,” Ahsoka snapped. “They made their own decisions about staying. They–” Her wrist buzzed and her teeth clicked shut against the angry words that bubbled up in her throat. She settled into a ready position. “There’ll probably be grenades. Be ready.”

Small, round objects arced through the air, coming to a tumbling stop in the middle ranks of the Stormtroopers. Ahsoka tracked their progress, mentally calculating the grenade timers in her head, before whirling to set her back against the wall on her and Dekar’s side of the door. He did the same, his reflexes only a hairsbreadth slower than Ahsoka’s, and they both shielded their faces against the wave of heat, shrapnel, and sound that detonated in the hall beyond.

Her eyes closed against the stinging, acrid smoke, Ahsoka leapt out of the tower and barreled into the dazed and reeling stormtroopers before they could regroup; her lightsabers cutting with deadly intent. By the time the smoke cleared, the stormtroopers were less than a quarter of their previous number, and a well-timed blaster shot from Rex took down the last of them. 

Ahsoka glanced back, her hand raised to beckon Dekar and the younglings forward, only to see them clustered around the Zabrak Master, their eyes wide with shock. Dekar was staring at her with an unreadable expression, his dark eyes considering. But before she could remind them to keep moving, he gathered the younglings together and motioned them forward, sliding back until the children were sandwiched between him and Ahsoka.

Rex looked her over as he and Saber moved to cover the flanks, the tightness around his eyes easing when he saw only minimal injuries. The younglings were eyeing the clones warily, but they stayed in the group when Ahsoka got them moving.

She kept them to the side corridors, ushering the children down dusty halls that probably hadn’t been used in months and were unlikely to be full of stormtroopers. They ran into one or two, of course, but in those unused hallways the Force was marginally clearer, and Ahsoka was able to keep the younglings out of sight and dispatch the troopers before they could raise an alarm. Still, even in a building as old and as large as the Jedi Temple, sometimes there was only one way to get where you needed to go.

She paused at a doorway to one of the smaller, unnamed halls, her lips thinning at the number of stormtroopers standing guard outside the doorway to the East Hangars. 

“There’s too many of them for us to take alone,” she told Rex, who’d come up beside her. “And it’s possible that Fives and the others may have taken a different route and are already inside. Any chance at raising him on comms?

Rex shook his head. “Too much interference. Some of the stormtroopers,” he spat the word with derision, “are carrying signal jammers. Only their helmet tightbeams are getting through.”

“I could go,” a voice piped up from Ahsoka’s elbow.

She turned, her gaze falling on the blue-skinned Twi’lek boy who’d been so suspicious of her in the Council chambers.

“I could go find them,” he repeated. “I’m good at finding people. Ask anyone.”

“No,” Ahsoka shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not. There are too many stormtroopers.”

“I can, though!” the boy protested. 

Dekar placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ahsoka is right, Cotan. There are too many enemies about to let anyone go off alone.” He raised a hand as Cotan sputtered in outrage. “Your abilities are not in doubt, but separating from the group right now is not in our best interests for survival. However,” he glanced at Ahsoka, “the boy does raise a point. If we are unable to communicate with your fellows, then coordinating our attack against that number of stormtroopers will be problematic.”

“Or we can just spike them.” Saber said from behind them.

Ahsoka turned, her eyes catching on what looked like a jury-rigged grenade. Saber grinned at the look on her face.

“It’s an EMP pulse grenade,” he said. “I messed with the emitter. If you can get it in the middle of them, the EMP should short out their comlinks.”

“A useful tool,” said Dekar gravely, “but we would be at a disadvantage if we are unable to make contact with the other group.”

Ahsoka tapped the hilt of her lightsaber, her mind racing through the various possibilities their actions could take.

“Do it,” she told Saber. “I’ll make sure the EMP gets where it needs to.”

He nodded, stepping up beside her and throwing the detonator as hard as he possibly could to the cluster of stormtroopers down the hall. At the apex of its arc, Ahsoka carefully pushed with the Force, sending the EMP grenade flying far further than it would have normally, until it fell with a clatter in the middle of the stormtroopers.

They glanced down at the noise, and Ahsoka felt a moment of derision for their lack of response to what was clearly a threat. _The 501st could have done better_. But then the EMP grenade pulsed and the troopers fell to the floor screaming and clutching at their helmets.

Rex busied himself at his comlink. “Fives come in. Please relay your position.”

Static buzzed in return.

He tried again. “Fives, this is Rex. Come in, we need to know your position.”

The stormtroopers were stirring fitfully and Ahsoka edged back to the front of the group, waving the younglings into the niches that dotted the corridor behind them.

“Fives, do you read. This is Rex, come–”

“–read you, Rex. We’re in – corridors over – on our way – taking fire–”

Rex scowled at the comlink, his hands pressing sharply at the controls, but the static didn’t abate.

“Sorry, Ahsoka,” he said, looking up at Ahsoka, “This is as clear as I can make it”

She frowned, but nodded at him to transmit again. “Fives, this is Ahsoka. I have Rex, Saber, another Jedi, and several younglings pinned down at the corridor just outside the East Hangar bay. If you can read me, please track this transmission.”

Only static answered.

Some of the stormtroopers had picked themselves up off the floor and were checking on their comrades. One kicked the spent EMP down the corridor and was carefully scanning his surroundings with his blaster raised.

Ahsoka drew her sabers. “Rex, Saber, I want you guarding our rear flank. Make sure no one can come from that side. Master Dekar and I will take the front.”

Rex caught her elbow, his expression worried. She patted his hand. “I’ll be fine, Rex. Go.”

His eyes narrowed, but he left without protest, joining Saber on the other side of the group of younglings and pointing his blaster at the empty corridor.

Dekar was staring at Ahsoka, with that same unreadable expression on his face again.

“What?” she asked.

“You were a padawan, were you not, when you joined the war?”

“...I was Master Skywalker’s padawan, yes.”

He looked unaccountably sad. “I see.” He ignited the blades of his lightsaber pike. “Well then, Master Tano. I hope your friends heard us.”

She blinked at the honorific. “I’m not… I left the Jedi order, I’m not a Knight anymore.”

“Jedi or not, you came back for your people,” he replied, calmly eyeing the churning group of stormtroopers. “The title is deserved.”

She gaped at him for only a moment longer, before the snap-crack of blaster fire jolted her out of her astonishment and back into the fervor of battle. 

If they’d had all the time in the world, two Jedi against roughly fifty stormtroopers in the building they’d lived in all their lives would have moved through the troopers without breaking much of a sweat. But with a dozen younglings to guard, and fatigue dragging at their limbs, Ahsoka knew that if she and Dekar couldn’t finish the stormtroopers quickly, it was unlikely they would ever be able to.

Both groups were well situated. Ahsoka and Dekar had the element of surprise (and of being un-electrocuted) and were well-positioned to be able to defend against any attack. But, so were the stormtroopers. Even after the shock of the EMP grenade, the troopers had easily fallen into a defensible perimeter that put them squarely where Ahsoka and her people needed to go. 

So now there was a stalemate. 

Ahsoka winged a bolt back at the trooper that shot it, grinning darkly when it struck just under the neck guard, sending the trooper toppling back onto one of his fellows. Two more stormtroopers slid into the vacated spots, their blasters unerringly seeking out Ahsoka and firing in retaliation. 

Bootsteps echoed down the corridor, the normally familiar sound sending a fluttering a dread into her stomach. Dekar sent her a glance as the sound reached him, his gaze solemn, before turning back to the fight, his lightsaber spinning with resigned determination. 

_I’m sorry, Skyguy_ , she thought, gripping her lightsabers tighter and settling into a deeper stance. _I know I said I’d come get you but–_

The wall behind the stormtroopers exploded, showering Dekar and Ahsoka with bits of plastoid alloy and stone. Shocked cries came from the younglings behind her as they were hit with tiny pieces of shrapnel until Ahsoka and Dekar, almost as one, reached for the Force to throw up a barrier.

Fives stepped through the smoke, flanked by Jesse and Kix with their blasters drawn. At his feet, a stormtrooper groaned and started moving, and Fives simply leaned down and let off one shot, at point blank range and the trooper fell silent.

“You called, General?” he asked, grinning under the dust that turned his brown skin ashy.

Ahsoka snorted, amusement tugging at the sides of her mouth. “I did. Wasn’t sure if you picked it up.”

Fives grinned wider. “You know me. I always like to make an entrance.”

“That I do. At least this time it actually worked out.”

“Your other companions, I presume?” Dekar asked, coming up beside Ahsoka and nodding at Fives. Fives’ smile froze, his eyes shifting from joviality to wariness in a blink.

“Master Dekar, this is Fives,” she said, sending a reassuring nod at Fives, who slowly relaxed. “Fives, did the others…?”

He nodded. “Got them to the shuttle just before Jesse, Kix, and I came looking for you. We need to move though, Jax and Torc can’t hold the shuttle for long.”

Ahsoka frowned. “I thought I told them to stay with Padmé. What are they doing here?”

“Found a few more clones who hadn’t left the GAR yet,” Fives responded matter-of-factly. “They’re with the Senator.”

She raised a brow-marking at him incredulously and he grinned ruefully back. “They’re solid,” he said. “It’s Commander Cody and a few of his boys.”

Both of her brow-markings went up. “Cody? I mean, I’m glad but…” she frowned. “I thought he’d wanted to stay with the GAR?”

Fives grimaced. “Things may have gotten worse than we thought. But he’s here with Boil and a few others, so I put them with her Ladyship.”

“The younglings are ready to move, Ahsoka,” Rex said, stepping up behind her. “But we need to go before more reinforcements arrive.”

“Right,” she said and turned to Dekar. “Master Dekar, if you’ll take rear-guard?”

The Zabrak master nodded solemnly.

“Fives, Rex? You’re with me,” Ahsoka ordered. “Saber, Jesse, Kix, fan out. I want to make sure no one flanks us.”

The clones slid into position, and she turned to face the cluster of younglings. Several had clean channels through the dirt that had settled on their faces, evidence of recent crying, and Ahsoka softened her voice in response.

“Okay. We only have a little bit left to go before we can leave. So I just need you to stick close and be ready to run if we tell you, alright?”

The younglings nodded in twos and threes, their eyes wide and shellshocked.

Ahsoka smiled warmly at them. “We’ll get out of this, I promise.”

“Ahsoka.” Rex said, his blasters up and pointing warily down the destroyed hallway.

She gave another nod and a reassuring smile at the children before striding forward to stand next to Rex, the cool, white blades of her lightsabers casting long shadows against the rubble in front of her.

Warily, the group prowled through the hole in the empty hallway, following the path that Fives had created in his haste to get to Ahsoka and her charges. Thankfully, no stormtroopers stopped them, despite the noise of the explosion, and they made quick time to the far side of the East Hangar, where a battered speeder-bus was waiting on one of the exterior landing platforms.

The children piled into the bus, collapsing in shocked piles on some of the larger benches and huddling together. Saera and Moira, sitting at the front of the bus, stared at Ahsoka in astonishment as the children passed them, only to straighten as Dekar stepped in the door.

“Master Dekar,” Saera said. “You’re alive.”

“I am, thanks to Master Tano,” he replied – Saera’s lekku twitched in surprise at the honorific.

“Did Soran…?” she asked.

Dekar shook his head.

Saera slumped, her shoulders bowing under the force of her grief. After barely a minute, she raised her head again, her face still and serene. 

The speeder bus rattled as blaster fire pinged off the hull. Ahsoka, after sparing a brief glance for the three Jedi Masters, lurched towards the cockpit, where Two-fer’s curses blistered the air inside.

“Anytime now, Two-fer.” Ahsoka said, eyeing the platoon of stormtroopers firing at them from the entrance into the Temple, “Before they call the gunships on us.”

“I am _trying_ , General. It’s not like this thing is a–” he smacked the console and several alarms fell silent, “It’s not like this is a luxury cruiseliner.” But the engines shuddered to life and Two-fer lifted the speeder bus into the air with a triumphant shout.

Only when the Temple was out of sight, with no pursuers following, did Ahsoka allow herself to breathe a sigh of relief and slump into the empty copilot’s chair. Success and grief circled warily in her mind, manifesting in the slow churning of her stomach. She could still feel the sucking maelstrom of the Force around the Temple at the edges of her mind, waiting to pull her in if she faltered even the slightest bit.

She shuddered at the sensation, at the anathema of the Temple being anything less than a haven. _What happened?_ She wondered. _What happened that made the Temple, the_ Force, _like this?_

_It’s a good thing you were never here to see this, Skyguy._

“General?” Two-fer was staring at her, his brow furrowed in concern. “Should I head for her Ladyship’s cruiser?”

“I… yes.” She lifted her chin. “Tell them we’re coming. I’ll inform the others.”

The main cabin of the speeder bus was silent when she entered, the clones, Jedi Masters, and younglings all coalescing together in their own groups, their expressions alternately somber, stoic, or in the case of the children, exhausted and frightened. Rex and his brothers straightened at her entrance, their focus in the Force sharpening into readiness. The Masters looked up as well, their gazes sharp for all that exhaustion weighed on them, showing clearly in the slump of their shoulders and the lines on their faces.

“Alright,” she told them, “Right now we’re headed to a ship that can get us off planet. Once we’re in hyperspace, however, we need to decide what to do.”

“Where do we go now?” A youngling piped up, her voice wavering.

“Somewhere safe,” she replied. “Somewhere we can regroup–”

“And where exactly is that?” Moira snapped, “The Temple is _gone._ How many of the Jedi are even left in the galaxy right now?”

“Master Declan, mind your tone,” Dekar said, his eyes sharp as he stared Moira down. “The Order is not dead so long as one Jedi still exists.”

Moira opened her mouth to retort, only to freeze as she met the gaze of the younglings that stared at her from their huddled pile. Scowling, she glanced aside.

Dekar turned to Ahsoka. “Any assistance you can give, Master Tano, would be greatly appreciated. We find ourselves in your debt.”

Ahsoka shifted, uncomfortable. “I can’t make any promises,” she told him. “But I’m not going to let the stormtroopers get to you. Any of you.”

He smiled sadly. “You may not have a choice.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he raised his hand to forestall her. “It can wait until we have more information. Then we can move forward with our plans.” He frowned. “As of now, we don’t know why the Republic has attacked the Jedi. I have my suspicions,” he said, raising his hand again, this time to prevent Moira from interrupting. “But suspicions are nothing without proof. And in our case, acting on them without proof will likely lead us into greater danger. Both to ourselves,” his gaze was hard as he leveled at Moira, “and to the charges in our care.”

“General!” Two-fer called from the cockpit. “We’ve got a problem!”

Ahsoka bolted for the door.

“What is it?” she asked, belting herself into the copilot seat.

Two-fer was frowning at the comm system. “Cody commed. He says we have to divert to a ship called the _Sundered Heart_. It’s in orbit.”

“Did Cody say who this ship flew with?” she asked, pressing her lips together as she tried to remember anything she could about a ship with that name.

He shook his head. “Connection was fuzzy. He might’ve, but it cut out.” He pressed a few buttons on a datapad propped up beside the speeder bus’s tiny navigation console. “It is registered with a diplomatic id code, though. Ship model is a Corellian CR90 Corvette?”

“A CR90?” Ahsoka asked. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah I’m sure. Why, do you know the ship?”

“CR90s are generally used as Alderaanian diplomatic vessels. Padmé shouldn’t be on that ship unless…” She frowned. “Take us up. I’ll keep trying to hail them. But if it is who I think it is, we should be okay.”

The speeder bus broke atmo, shaking a little as its older chassis adjusted to the vacuum of space. Ahsoka glanced at Two-fer, but he seemed unbothered, simply easing the bus through the shakes as smoothly as if Anakin had done it. They passed by various other civilian vehicles, and once even a GAR patrol, until they were eventually headed to a mid-size cruiser hovering beyond the normal orbital range for a ship that size. Slowly, the _Sundered Heart_ loomed large in the viewport and Ahsoka thinned her lips at the sight of Padmé’s freighter lying close against the belly of the other vessel.

“ _Sundered Heart,_ this is Ahsoka Tano, please respond.”

The com crackled to life, spitting out a blessedly familiar voice. 

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Dormé said. “I’m glad to see you got back in one piece.”

“Dormé,” Ahsoka sighed in relief. “I’m glad to hear your voice. What happened? Why did you change ships?”

“Senator Organa hailed us. Apparently he’s found Master Yoda.”

Ahsoka’s breath caught. “Master Yoda is alive?”

“He is,” Dormé replied. “Though you might want to hurry. He’s speaking with my Lady at the moment.”

Ahsoka winced. “Alright. We’re on our way.”

“The hangar will be open for you.”

Two-fer guided the speeder bus upwards as the hangar bay doors of the _Sundered Heart_ began to open. Ahsoka unbuckled herself from the copilot’s seat and slipped back into the passenger cabin.

“Alright,” she said, once everyone had looked up at her arrival. “We’re docking at the diplomatic vessel, _Sundered Heart_. Senator Organa has welcomed us on board and has given us free reign of the infirmary.” She caught the gazes of the other Jedi. “Master Dekar, I suggest you take everyone there after we’ve docked. Just in case.”

Dekar nodded, exhaustion lining his face. Saera and Moira barely moved, their faces tranquil as they sank deep into meditation to try and aid with healing their own wounds. The younglings stayed huddled together like anooba puppies, their eyes downcast and solemn.

The speeder bus shuddered slightly as the docking clamps settled around the ship, the airlock sliding open shortly after to reveal a silent Commander Cody, still dressed in his battered yellow and white armor. His face was haggard, the scars on the side of his head etched deeper than ever. But he still saluted when Ahsoka turned to face him, though his gaze shied away from his brothers’.

“General,” Cody said. “Glad to see you made it out.”

“Likewise, Commander,” Ahsoka replied. “I trust that you…” she waved vaguely at the side of her head.

He nodded. “Yes. I had the chip removed, for me and my men. There’s no need to worry about… that sort of thing.”

Rex stepped forward, his face still and unreadable. Ahsoka watched Cody’s gaze flicker towards the other man and then away before he turned back to her. “You’re needed in the conference room, General.”

Ahsoka glanced between the two men, raising an eyebrow marking at Rex, who nodded.

“Very well,” she said, and waved at the Jedi, who were just rising to their feet. “Masters, if you’ll head this way please. I can direct you to the infirmary.”

Dekar shook his head. “No need, Master Tano. I’m sure we can find our way. Younglings?”

The children rose en masse and shuffled past Ahsoka and Cody, glancing warily at the clone’s arms without meeting his gaze. Once the Jedi had passed, she followed them down the docking tube, leaving Cody with Rex and the rest of his brothers, though Fives slipped in behind her.

The _Sundered Heart_ was much the same as the other CR90 Corvettes that Ahsoka had been in, though the internal fixtures were all from higher quality stock, showing its status as a Senator’s ship. But even if she didn’t know where to find the conference room, the yelling that echoed down the hallway would have managed to lead her in pretty well.

“–lost their father, do you really expect me to trust you with my children?”

“Force sensitive they are, trained they must be.”

Ahsoka quickened her step at the sound of Master Yoda’s voice, soft-spoken though it was.

“They will be!”

“Capable, but not a Jedi, Ahsoka Tano is. Training for your children she cannot provide.”

And yet you expect me to just hand my children over to you? With everything that’s been happening? You can’t even protect your own Order, what makes you think you can protect my children?”

The conference room door slid open, revealing Master Yoda sitting slumped in a chair at the table. Padmé was standing opposite him, her fists clenched in anger. Her gaze snapped to Ahsoka as soon as she stepped in the room.

“Did you know about this?” Padmé asked, her anger rolling off her in waves. “Did you know he would try to take Luke and Leia from me?”

Ahsoka glanced at Master Yoda, trying to meet his gaze, but he simply stared straight ahead, seemingly fascinated by the wood grain of the table.

“It’s common for the Jedi to take children early,” she replied evenly, censure chilling her words. “But right now there’s no Jedi to take care of them, so I don’t think it’s relevant.”

Yoda sighed, a host of weariness in the sound. “Skywalker’s children they are. Dangerous for them it will be, with a Sith at the head of the Republic.”

Ahsoka’s blood ran cold, freezing her breath in her throat as she swayed with shock. Beside her, Fives stiffened, his hands falling automatically to the grips of his blasters. Even Padmé fell silent, her glare lessening under the weight of the Jedi Master’s words.

“A Sith?” Ahsoka asked, horror curdling in her throat. 

Fives stepped forward. “Do you have confirmation on that?”

Yoda sighed. “Fought him I did. Defeat him I could not. Strong in the Dark Side he is.” His long, pointy ears drooped, and Ahsoka was struck by just how much he’d aged since she saw him last. “Very good at hiding his nature he is. But such is the way of the Sith.”

“And you want me to give my children to you?” Padmé asked incredulously. “You said so yourself, Master Jedi; you could not defeat him. How am I–”

“Powerful in the Force your children will become. For their own protection, separated they must be.”

“You _do_ _not_ get to take my children from me, Master Jedi,” Padmé stated, her usual calm composure disintegrating under the force of her anger, though her voice stayed eerily level. “Not while I still have breath in my body.”

“Here I thought the Jedi were so advanced,” Fives sneered. “I thought maybe my brothers and I were an emergency measure. But no, you Jedi have always been stealing children, haven’t you?”

Ahsoka inhaled, all her years in the Temple pressing against her teeth, fighting to break free into words. But Fives’ challenging glare wasn’t just for Master Yoda. His gaze flicked to hers when she shifted and she found herself rocking back at the anger that was banked behind his golden-brown eyes. 

“If you want to try and take those kids, Jedi,” Fives spat, turning back to Yoda, “then you’ll have to go through my brothers and I first. How much blood are you willing to spill for that?”

Yoda glanced down and away, for once looking like he felt every year of his age in his stooped shoulders and long, pointed ears.

The conference room door slid open, revealing a harried looking Senator Organa. He froze at the anger still hovering in the air, but when no one stopped him, he swept into the room like a cool wind and called up the room’s hologram suite.

A live feed from the Senate building leapt into existence, zooming in on a bent, hooded figure that stood in the middle of the Chancellor’s platform. With a start, Ahsoka realized that the figure was actually Chancellor Palpatine – no, the _Sith Lord_ – and that something had warped the flesh from his bones, leaving him a shriveled husk of his former self; a husk that somehow burned with a feverish internal energy as he spoke stridently to the Senate.

“– _came a day when our enemies showed their true natures._

_“The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power against the Republic by assassinating the head of government and usurping control of the clone army. But the aims of would-be tyrants were valiantly opposed by those without elitist, dangerous powers. Our loyal stormtroopers contained the insurrection within the Jedi Temple and quelled uprisings on a thousand worlds._

_“The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated! Any collaborators will suffer the same fate. These have been trying times, but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society, which I assure you will last for ten thousand years!”_

Cheering erupted from the Senate pods, pouring through the tinny holocam mics in a raging flood of sound. In the _Sundered Heart_ ’s conference room, however, there was only a stunned and brittle silence. Padmé sank into the closest chair, her hand pressed against her mouth as if to keep herself from making any sound. Ahsoka was rooted to the floor, revulsion foaming in her throat as her fingers flexed on the hilts of her sabers. Fives was quietly cursing behind her, cycling through a few different languages just so he could say enough curse words, as if that would somehow make it better.

Unbidden, Ahsoka’s attention moved to Yoda, who had sunken into his chair, having seemingly aged a hundred years in a little under five minutes. His head was bent under the weight of grief that even a Jedi Grand Master couldn’t will away.

“So this is how liberty dies,” Senator Organa said, his head bowed as the cheering from the Senate floor rang on like the rattling of old bones.

“No.” Padmé leaned forward and slapped at the hologram controls, dousing the conference room in startled silence. “This is _not_ how it dies. I won’t let it.”

“Padmé…” Senator Organa started, alarmed. “You can’t possibly–”

She whirled on him, forcing him to lean back or get far too close to the snapping fire of her eyes. “I can’t what, Bail? I can’t fight?” She glared at Yoda. “I can’t protect my people?” She turned back to Senator Organa. “What is it that I can’t do, exactly, Bail?”

“Padmé, you’re a senator, you don’t have an army–”

“I didn’t have an army when I decided to retake Naboo, and I don’t need one now,” she snapped. “I can’t be the only person who won’t stand for this– this fallacy. There have to be others who are willing to help.” Her mouth thinned. “In fact, unless I miss my guess, there’s an entire Confederacy who might be willing to help.”

Senator Organa stared at her. “You’re talking about the Separatists. Padmé… you think they will help you?”

“The Separatists left the Republic because we failed them, Bail. And from what I saw today, they were right to do so. It was always Dooku and his pet Trade Federations that instigated the conflict, never the planets that just wanted to leave.” She lifted her chin. “I can guarantee that the same reasons they left the Republic will be the same reasons they’ll help us now. But I’ve fought against such oppression before. I will do it again, alone if need be.”

Senator Organa lifted a hand in entreaty. “Your children–”

She glared him into silence. “I will not have my children grow up in a dictatorship.” Her glance at Yoda was dripping with molten anger. “Nor will I let this… Sith Lord, or anyone else, take them from me.” She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Are you with me on this, Bail?”

He stared at her, expressions flickering across his face too fast to make out before he placed his hands over his face in defeat. “Yes. Yes of course I am. You’ll always have Alderaan as an ally, Padmé.”

She softened, coming around the table and placing a hand on Senator Organa’s arm. “I know this will be difficult, Bail, but please believe me when I say it’ll be worth it.”

“If it comes down to a fight, my Lady,” Fives said, stepping forward. “I know you’ll at least have me to help, and probably a lot of my brothers besides. I think we just learned who put those damned chips in our heads.” He grinned. “And we could stand for some payback.”

Padmé turned to Ahsoka, her gaze reservedly hopeful, and Ahsoka found herself nodding before Padmé even asked a question.

“Of course I’ll come,” she said, smiling at her friend. “You’re my friend, Padmé. Plus, Skyguy would kill me if I left just to go look for him.”

Padmé smiled back. “You’ve been a great help to me, Ahsoka, I’m glad you could stay.”

“The fact remains,” Senator Organa spoke up, “is that you’re not safe in the Repub–” he huffed in annoyance, “–the _Empire_. If what you told me was true, Padmé, then it’s possible that the Emperor wants you dead. If you want to successfully form a rebellion…”

Padmé nodded. “I understand.” Her gaze turned inward, her lips thinning. “Whether I agree with Master Yoda or not,” she said finally. “He raises a point. Luke and Leia aren’t safe so long as a Sith controls the…” her face twisted in disgust, “the Empire.”

“So we go somewhere they won’t look for you,” Ahsoka spoke up. “We fake your death and take you to a planet on the Outer Rim.”

“Tatooine,” Senator Organa suggested. “It’s a Hutt world, but it’s unlikely the Empire will have much more luck gaining the Hutts’ cooperation than the Republic did.”

“And Anakin had some family there,” Padmé nodded. “Tatooine it is then. Hopefully it will be enough.” She turned to Master Yoda. “Master Jedi, I will not apologize for my outburst earlier, but you are welcome to join us should you wish.”

Yoda shook his head. “No. Meditate I must, on these developments. To the Outer Rim; to Dagobah I shall go.” He glanced at Ahsoka. “Found your own path, you have, young Ahsoka. Proud you should be.”

Ahsoka’s breath caught as she bowed. “My thanks, Master Yoda.”

He bowed in return, then shuffled out of the room, leaning heavily on his gimer stick. Senator Organa stood to follow him, nodding respectfully to Padmé as he passed. 

After a questioning look at Ahsoka – who returned it with a nod – Padmé swept out after the two men, Moteé following like a shadow, and leaving only Fives and Ahsoka in the conference room.

“Well, General.” Fives said, a smirk pulling up the side of his mouth. “It’s just never boring around you is it?”

“No, Fives.” She laughed, turning to stare out the viewport at the glittering planet below. “It really isn’t.”

“Maybe Tatooine will be boring.”

Ahsoka glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “It’s ruled by the Hutts.”

“We’ve handled slugs before, they’re easy.”

“There are Tusken raiders who know the desert like they know their parents.”

Fives grinned wider. “”Yeah, but they aren’t clones, are they?”

Ahsoka rolled her lips together to keep from smiling. “Anakin grew up there.”

Fives blinked, his eyes widening before he shook his head to resettle himself. “....You sure it’s a good thing to take his kids there then? What if they end up like him?”

She laughed. “I think we may need to be more worried about them ending up like Padmé. She’s the one who broke a Trade Federation blockade and liberated her entire planet with only a handful of guards, two Jedi, and the hope that they could convince the Gungans to help. All at fourteen years old.”

“So...stock up on ammo then?”

The _Sundered Heart_ chose that moment to leap into hyperspace, smearing stars across the viewport, and Ahsoka felt her spine straightening with every second they traveled. Her thoughts strayed to her lost Master, and she smiled until her teeth gleamed in the pale, cold light of hyperspace.

The Empire wasn’t going to know what hit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	13. The Dark Between the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebellion plans to strike against the planet of NABOO, after discovering that the Emperor has sequestered himself away in secret in his family house on-planet
> 
> But upon arriving at Naboo, the Rebels discover that something more sinister is afoot, and the Emperor has deposed the ruling leader of Naboo, the young Queen SOSHA SORUNA.
> 
> With Queen Soruna’s help, the Rebellion seeks to destroy Emperor Palpatine once and for all, so they send a strike team into the heart of the palace.
> 
> But what awaits them there will change the face of the Rebellion forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Carrie.

Endurance, _Rebel Fleet, Dantooine; 3 years after the Battle of Yavin_

**Anakin**

The _Lambda_ -class shuttle resting in the _Endurance_ ’s fighter bay had seen better days, if the heap of engine parts laid out near the loading ramp was any indication, but the hull gleamed with fresh paint and the shuttle’s serial numbers stood out crisp and black against the stark white.

The fighter bay was buzzing with activity. Engineers lay hip-deep in engines, accompanied by flying sparks and the sharp odor of engine grease. Droids trundled between ships, carrying parts and tools or lending their manipulator arms to whichever engineer called for them. Ground crew filled in the gaps, refueling, repainting, or running flight checks, making sure the Rebel fleet would be ready for whatever the Empire could throw at them next.

In the middle, like a boulder in a river, Anakin leaned against a stack of crates, his right hand flexing rhythmically as he stared at the _Lambda_. There were a few stares thrown his direction, but since he’d changed out of his robes and into a sand-colored shirt and pants, most of the stares lacked the blatant curiosity he was slowly becoming accustomed to. 

“I wondered if I’d find you here.” Ahsoka hopped up on a crate beside him, her ‘saber hilts rattling against the plasteel cladding. She frowned as she caught a look at his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” his mouth twisted. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.” He looked up after a moment to find her still eyeing him. “I _don’t_ , Ahsoka.”

“...Alright.” She turned back to face the _Lambda_. “Like the shuttle?”

Anakin snorted. “It looks well enough, if you like the ‘clunky with an unnecessary amount of wings’ look. Bet it handles like a drunk bantha though.”

“Oh definitely.” She smirked. “But it still has its Imperial access codes, so it’s the drunk bantha that’ll get us to Naboo.”

“The Imperials fly _this?_ ” He threw her a look. “I’m surprised you haven’t beaten them yet, Snips.”

She grinned, her teeth gleaming. “‘Drunk bantha’ or no, Skyguy, the Imps don’t travel in anything that has less than two cannons, and the _Lambda_ has five. She may not be fast, but she’ll take the hits pretty well. I’d like to see _you_ grab one of these without blowing them up first.”

“Maybe next time, Snips.” He eyed the shuttle again. “We’re taking this bird to Naboo?”

Ahsoka frowned at him. “Didn’t Padmé tell you?”

He twitched. “We… didn’t get to it.”

“Okay… well the plan is, we use the shuttle to get us and some troops on-planet, meet up with Padmé’s contact, and see if we can’t find and kill the Emperor.”

“Oh, that easy then?” He raised an eyebrow.

Ahsoka made a face. “We _are_ going to have to bluff our way through the Imperial blockade surrounding the planet, as well as find a way out of the Imperial Complex once we land, but the plan should hold up.”

He laughed. “I seem to remember a few times when your plans ‘should’ have held up, Snips. As I recall, they didn’t.”

She aimed a kick at his hip, shifting him sideways a step or two before he recovered and went back to leaning on the stacked crates. “And how many of _your_ plans went perfectly, Skyguy?”

Anakin raised his hands to ward her off, laughter bubbling up in his throat, and Ahsoka subsided, though not without a faint echo of her usual impish grin lingering on her face.

“Actually, I’m glad I caught you,” she said and shoved a bundle of stiff, gray fabric at him. “You missed the mission brief, so I need you to see if this fits.”

“What is…” The fabric, already loosely folded, flopped open, revealing a high-collared wool coat, starched pants, and a black, synth-leather belt that slithered to the floor with the buckle facing up, leaving an Imperial cog gleaming like a sullen scar under the bright lights of _Endurance_ ’s fighter bay.

“Ahsoka,” he said, gathering the belt from the floor while making sure to keep it at arm's length. “What is this?”

“We’re landing in the Imperial Complex, Skyguy. We can’t exactly leap out of the shuttle in Jedi robes.” 

Anakin wrinkled his nose at the starched fabric draped over his arms. “I can’t exactly fight in this.”

“You shouldn’t have to, hopefully. If everything goes right then we should be out of the Complex before they realize you’re not an officer.” She grinned and tugged at a lock of hair had had fallen over his face. “Though they may realize it a lot faster if you keep this mop.”

He batted her hand away, his fingers tucking the offending strand of hair back behind his ear as Ahsoka laughed.

“You know, I’d forgotten you had this much hair, Skyguy.”

He stuck his nose in the air, though his mock scowl was threatened by the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re just jealous you don’t have any, Snips.”

“Ha! As if! At least I don’t shed.”

Anakin shoved at Ahsoka’s knee, his smile turning into a full-blown smirk, when his eye was caught by a familiar head of blond hair…

“Luke?” he blurted out as his son passed by in a brilliantly orange jumpsuit, Artoo hot on his heels. 

Luke veered course, dodging a few overloaded technicians and one particularly irate orange and gray astromech, until he reached the bubble of spaces surrounding Anakin and Ahsoka. “Hey D– Anakin. Hey Ahsoka.”

“You’re out of the infirmary?” Anakin asked, his gaze sliding over Luke’s slightly wan features.

Luke nodded and held up a gloved hand. “They got the prosthetic on pretty fast.” The hand twitched and he winced. “I’m still getting used to it, but I’ve been cleared for piloting at least.”

“You’ve been cleared?” Anakin frowned. “What about Leia?”

“She’s…” Luke winced, his gloved hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “She took it harder than me. They haven’t put a prosthetic on her yet.”

“Is she alright?” Ahsoka asked, her teasing demeanor fading.

“Oh yeah! There’s no infections, she just..” He winced again. “She won’t take the prosthetic they offered. And she won’t say why, so she’s… still in the infirmary. But I’m clear for piloting! I’ll be with the fleet while you guys infiltrate Naboo.” He grinned. “Pretty sure I’ll have the easy job.”

Ahsoka snorted. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, kiddo. And remember to go easy on that hand. Prosthetics take time to adjust to.”

Luke beamed. “I will!” And he was off, dodging through the chaos that filled the fighter bay until he reached a blue and white X-wing, with the symbol of the Rebel Alliance emblazoned in orange on the nose.

Anakin frowned after him.

“He’ll be fine, Anakin,” Ahsoka said, hopping off the crate. “He’s bounced back from a lot. He’ll bounce back from this.”

“...you’re sure?” 

She grinned at him. “Give me some credit, Skyguy, I did train the kid. He’s more like Padmé than you.”

Anakin’s gaze slanted her direction. “That’s not reassuring, Ahsoka.”

“He’s not likely to run off and do something stupid, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Her grin widened. “He’ll plan it out first.”

“That makes me feel so much better.”

Ahsoka laughed. “He’ll be fine, Anakin. He’s got Artoo _and_ your skill at flying.” She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “He’ll make it back, even with the new hand.” Her comlink beeped. “Speaking of which, we’ve gotta get ready to go.” She jerked her hand back towards the _Lambda_. “Go get ready. We’ll be leaving soon.”

Anakin watched her go, noting with some wry amusement the number of older clones that shouted greetings as she passed. The fabric in his hands shifted slightly, reminding him of its presence, and he grimaced in distaste. “Oh well,” he said, though no one was listening. “Might was well get this over with.”

After navigating the mass of activity in the fighter bay, the trip to the cubbyhole of a room the _Endurance_ ’s quartermaster assigned him – just in case! – took hardly any time at all. The room was barely big enough for a single-occupant bunk and a basic ‘fresher with no shoulder space, but it did its job well enough, giving Anakin privacy to struggle into an unyielding and uncomfortable Imperial uniform.

“No wonder the Imperials are so cranky if they have to wear this piece of poodoo,” he muttered as he snapped the top closure of the jacket around his throat. His reflection in the ‘fresher’s tiny mirror caught his eye and he grimaced. _Maybe Ahsoka was right after all,_ he thought, eyeing the line of his hair critically. The ends – almost past his shoulders now – curled wildly over the collar of the uniform jacket, disrupting the lines and pointing like a thousand tiny arrows to a metaphorical sign that screamed, “he is not an Imperial!”

Anakin muttered a word that would have had the créche-masters washing out his mouth with soap if they’d heard him and reached for the basic grooming kit that had been deposited in his room by some helpful service droid. The kit didn’t have anything more than a basic cutter and a few other odds and ends that he didn’t recognize (presumably they were for those who wanted more than just a basic haircut), but thankfully the cutter was a model similar to the one’s he’d used before, and it rested in his palm with almost as much familiarity as his lightsaber.

For a moment, he could almost smell the hot mustiness of a Tatooine afternoon, and hear his mother chiding him to –

_“Hold_ still _, Ani. I need to cut your hair or its going to get trapped in the engine racks again.”_

_Ani squirmed. “Mooom, that was an_ accident _. It’s not going to happen again.”_

_“Of course not.” Her hands tilted his head back to face front. “Now hold still, or you’ll be–”_

_“–doing this yourself one day, Anakin,”_ Obi-wan’s voice layered over his mother’s and Anakin jerked (nearly shaving off a large swath of hair) as his mind was yanked from the hot grit of his home planet to the cool marble of the Temple.

_“A Jedi’s appearance is important,” Obi-wan continued as he resolutely trimmed the hair behind Anakin’s ears. “A tidy appearance will engender trust and respect in those who meet you.”_

_A dusting of fine, blond hair brushed passed Anakin’s ear and he tried not to resent the smooth purr of the cutter around his head, so different from the one on Tatooine…_

_“They don’t respect me even when I_ am _tidy,” Anakin whined, making a face at his master’s reflection. Then his words registered in his brain and he flinched._

_Obi-wan didn’t seem to notice, though he tapped gently on Anakin’s shoulders to get them to relax so he could run the cutter along the nape of Anakin’s neck. There was wry amusement in his voice when he finally spoke._

_“We can’t change the… stubbornness of others,” Obi-wan said, brushing off the hair lingering on Anakin’s padawan robes. “But we can make it harder for them to find fault in_ us _.” He deftly straightened Anakin’s braid. “So be mindful of your appearance, my young padawan. It may prove to be one of your greatest defenses.”_

Anakin ran a hand through his newly-shorn hair, Obi-wan’s words fading in his ears, and used the Force to shove the cut strands off his jacket and into a neat pile on the floor for the droids to pick up later. _I look a bit like Obi-wan_ , he mused, eyeing himself in the ‘fresher’s mirror. _Though I’m not doing that side-part of his._

A draft played across the back of his neck, bare now above the jacket collar, and Anakin shivered slightly. The ends of his hair now curled just barely over the tops of his ears, leaving a few inches at the crown of his head that, while far longer than an Imperial buzz cut, wouldn’t look amiss under the uniform hat. He still felt naked without the usual weight of his hair, but he shook off the feeling as his comlink chirped.

“ _Hey Skyguy.”_ Ahsoka said, her voice echoing in the tiny speaker. “ _Ready to go?”_

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few.” Glancing at the lonely pile of dark hair on the floor around the sink, Anakin shoved aside a flash of regret, straightened his shoulders, and stepped into the corridor, closing the cabin door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air in the fighter bay felt subtlety different when Anakin returned, now clad in the dull gray of the Imperial officer’s uniform. The large space that had been cleared out in front of the _Lambda_ was now filled with...stormtroopers? Anakin tensed, his hand falling to his hip only to remember that his ‘saber was stuffed into a makeshift wrist-holster. But before he could pull his lightsaber free, Ahsoka came up on his left side, and clamped her hand down on his left wrist.

“It’s alright. They’re with us.”

He tensed again at the contact, then relaxed, shaking out his shoulders and turning to his former padawan.

Ahsoka was clad in a form-fitting black body-suit with armor panels that attached to the chest, shoulders, hips, forearms, and shins. Instead of her new leather and metal headdress (that he was still getting used to), she had wrapped her montrals and lekku with black fabric until only the blue and white tips showed through. Tucked under her arm was a black helmet with a tinted faceplate and the bone-white Imperial Cog painted on the side.

“What...is that?” Anakin asked, frowning at her ensemble, especially at the odd circle-hilted saber attached to Ahsoka’s hip.

She grimaced. “It’s an Inquisitor’s uniform, or as close as we can get to one.”

“Inquisitor?”

“Force sensitive idiots who think they know how to Sith,” said Rex, coming up behind Ahsoka’s shoulder in a gray uniform similar to Anakin’s. “They’ve been a pain in the ass for a while, but hopefully with Maul gone, they should die back a bit.”

Ahsoka laughed, bumping Rex’s shoulder with her own. “Thanks for that summary Rex. I couldn’t have said it better. Is the platoon ready?”

Rex nodded. “They’re finishing getting prepped now. Just waiting on you and General Skywalker to give the ‘go’ signal.”

Anakin blinked. “I hadn’t realized I was leading this op.”

“Eh… sorry sir.” Rex winced. “I meant the _other_ General Skywalker.”

“Padmé” Ahsoka clarified. “She took your name after she faked her death.”

Anakin felt the floor under him shift without moving and barely caught himself from staggering. “I… see.”

Ahsoka gave him a sympathetic shrug. “It was easier for her and the kids.” She glanced over at the _Lambda_. “Time to fall in.”

Anakin pulled himself back together with a few deep breaths, shoving his rioting emotions aside in order to deal with them later, only to look up and find Rex watching him shrewdly.

“I’m fine.”

Rex raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Anakin sighed. “It’s nothing, Rex. Just… adjustment issues.”

“You know,” Rex said mildly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s when to _not_ let you Skywalkers push your problems aside.”

“I don’t have time to deal with my… problems… right now, Rex.”

Rex shrugged. “Maybe not. But after this is all finished, we’ll have a chat.”

Anakin stared at him, more than slightly astonished at the steel in Rex’s voice. The beard and lack of hair had admittedly thrown him off at first, but if the look in Rex’s eyes was any indication, Rex had learned far more than just how to grow a beard in the years Anakin was asleep. “Alright.”

Rex nodded. “C’mon. Or the shuttle will leave without us.”

He turned, and in the same unwavering stride he’d used in the Clone Wars, made his way to the assembled Rebel troopers, who were all clustered around Ahsoka and a shorter figure with dark hair pulled into a bun…

_Right, General Skywalker._ Anakin winced slightly as he drew closer, though he was careful to school his expression to stillness when he stepped up beside Padmé, now dressed in the same style uniform as himself and Rex, though her hair was pulled back into a severe bun at the base of her skull.

“Alright everyone,” Padmé was saying. “You’ve all been briefed on the plan and you know your tasks. I have no doubt that you will all perform exceptionally. However, until the fleet is in position above Naboo, I need you all to remember that secrecy and subterfuge, on this mission, will be the better part of valor. We need you all alive for the final part of this plan, so don’t do anything stupid like get yourself caught trying to hotwire the Imperial barracks’ ‘freshers to a bomb.” 

A muffled ripple of laughter greeted her words and one of the armored Rebels shouted, “She’s looking at you Torc!”

“I’m not the one with the explosives this time, Jax,” came the reply. “Besides, in this kriffing helmet I’m not even sure I could _find_ the freshers to blow them up.” More laughter rippled throughout the group, and even Anakin couldn’t quite hide his smile at the banter, despite his stiff stance beside Ahsoka.

Padmé raised a hand and the chatter quieted down. “Today, with luck, we will strike such a blow at its heart that the Empire will never be able to recover from it. And I know that I have the best operatives to be able to do it.” She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “May the Force be with us.”

At her words, the fighter bay, which had fallen silent during Padmé’s speech, erupted with a roar of approval and a surge of emotion that ricocheted within the Force. Anakin found himself grinning, his mood buoyed by the adrenaline and excitement of the people around him. Even stepping into the cockpit beside Padmé didn’t seem quite so difficult as before.

“Take us up, Two-fer,” Ahsoka told the grizzled clone pilot at the controls, and the _Lambda_ shuttle lifted off of the _Endurance_ ’s flight deck. A quick interchange with the _Endurance_ rattled tinnily through the pilot’s comms and the stars (and fleet) stretched towards them as the shuttle leapt into hyperspace. 

In preparation for the assault on Naboo, the Rebel fleet had stopped at an uninhabited system only a short jump away from the Naboo system itself, so the shuttle didn’t have very far to go. In the cockpit, Ahsoka and Padmé had their heads together and were discussing exit strategies from the Imperial Complex quietly enough that Anakin had to strain to hear them. But behind him, in the retro-fitted passenger section, he could hear the troopers joking amongst themselves, so he slipped out the back of the cockpit and quietly padded down the connecting corridor.

“I can’t believe stormtroopers wear this crap, it’s worse than even the gen one armor back in the War. Targeting systems are crap, armor’s too thin, and the eye holes don’t even line up right! I have to keep turning my head to the side.”

“You ever thought that might just be you?”

Laughter bounced off the walls of the passenger area as Anakin lounged in the doorway. Most of the Rebels had their stormtrooper helmets off and placed to the side, save for one or two who were working on the interior helmet systems with looks of intense focus. One of the fighters – Anakin blinked when he realized it was another clone like Rex – beckoned him over. 

“Have a seat, General,” he said, grabbing his helmet off the seat beside him and dropping it to the floor. “Have you ever seen armor as bad as this? No wonder we keep winning.”

The rest of the fighters laughed.

“You should try being in this.” Anakin grinned. “I’m surprised I even managed to take more than three steps without falling over like I got hit with a stun blast.”

“So _that’s_ how the officers keep those sticks up their arses,” laughed a fighter around Anakin’s age, with dark hair and eyes. “Sergeant Kes Dameron,” he said to Anakin’s questioning glance. “You flew with my fiancée, Shara.”

“She’s a good pilot,” Anakin responded, trading grips with Kes. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

Kes grinned. “Of course she is. She can keep up with Commander Skywalker!”

The fighters laughed again, and this time Anakin joined in, willing himself to relax into the pre-battle camaraderie.

“So you’re really him, then?” someone asked – another old clone, Anakin realized. “You’re really General Skywalker from the War?”

Anakin shifted uneasily, but met the clone’s question with a wide grin. “Yup. That’s me.”

A number of the other fighters glanced amongst themselves (all of them clones) until one who’d been working on his helmet looked up.

He had a “5” tattooed on his temple.

“Did Ahsoka tell you happened to us after you left?” Fives asked even as Anakin stared at him in astonishment.

“She told me some.” Anakin replied. “Not all of it though.”

Fives eyed him carefully as the other fighters fell silent. “Did she tell you about the chips?”

Anakin felt his stomach sinking to the floor. “What chips?”

Fives snapped something into place inside the purloined helmet and carefully set it down on the seat beside him. “There were chips in my head, in my brothers’ heads. They were going to make us into nothing better than droids.” His gaze pinned Anakin to the floor. “Did you know?”

Anakin shook his head, reeling under the punch of old anger in the Force. “No. Force, no. I had no idea. Fives…”

Fives stared at him, his eyes colder than Anakin had ever seen them, but eventually they thawed, and the old clone glanced away. “Then it’s good to have you back, sir,” he said with a faint smile and an offered hand.

“It’s good to be back, Fives.” Anakin traded grips, and the rest of the fighters – who had been watching the exchange carefully – relaxed.

“Not quite like old times, General.” Fives laughed. “But close enough.”

_Yeah,_ Anakin thought, making sure not to glance in the direction of the cockpit… and Padmé. _Close enough._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Ahsoka**

As the maelstrom of emotions in the passenger area died down to a low murmur, Ahsoka felt her shoulders relax. Anakin had been on edge since she found him in the hangar – an event which usually meant the Force would feel like a cloud of pins and needles for hours after – and while he wouldn’t say why, she could guess it had something to do with Padmé’s set expression and the tight lines around her brown eyes.

Ahsoka repressed a sigh, shifting awkwardly in her uncomfortable armor. _The eve of an invasion wasn’t exactly the best time for whatever you said to him, Padmé,_ she thought. _If Anakin gets injured because he’s distracted, then you’ll both end up kicking yourselves._

Rex leaned against her shoulder, startling Ahsoka out of her thoughts and doing more to settle her nerves than any amount of speeches or pre-battle meditation, even if she could barely feel the pressure through the confines of the Inquisitorial armor. She threw back a grateful glance, to which he nodded and returned to his usual stance, his legs shoulder-width apart, knees loose, and with his hands clasped readily before him.

After a few moments of silence, broken only by muffled laughter from the passenger area, the nav computer beeped and the shuttle slid out of hyperspace, Naboo looming large in the viewport. Twenty years ago, Ahsoka might have been tempted to admire the lights shining from the dark side of the planet like clusters of luminescent jewels, but now the lights fell to second place against the Imperial fleet circling the planet.

She counted six – no, seven – Star Destroyers, a double handful of light cruisers, and an excessive number of TIE fighters patrolling like ants around a corpse.

“Seems a bit excessive,” Rex muttered, looking at Ahsoka and tapping his forehead meaningfully. “Isn’t the Emperor supposed to be here in secret?”

Thus reminded, Ahsoka pulled her helmet on over her montrals just as the shuttle’s comlink chimed, the notification light blinking like a baleful red eye through the heavy tinting of her faceplate. 

“Everyone ready?” Two-fer asked, his hand hovering over the controls that would open a channel to the Empire.

Ahsoka glanced at Padmé, but the older woman’s gaze was fixed on the planet below. “Padmé?”

Padmé’s mouth hardened. “Commander Rex, please inform our fighters to prep for landing.” She tore her gaze away from the planet, sending a nod to Two-fer. “When you’re ready.”

Two-fer pressed the button to open the channel and the cool, crisp tones of a Core World accent filled the cockpit.

“ _Codes and designation?_ ”

“This is Imperial Shuttle _Tiamat_ ,” Two-fer replied. “Sending authorization codes now.”

There was a pause.

“ _Shuttle_ Tiamat, _you’re not scheduled for arrival in this sector. State your cargo and destination.”_

“Arms and Personnel, Theed Imperial Complex.”

“ _You’re not slated for landing there.”_

Ahsoka’s fingers twitched with the urge to reach out with the Force, but she remained still. It was only an audio channel anyways.

“I understand,” Two-fer was saying. “But I have orders from General Sael. Plus,” here his voice lowered in a conspiratorial whisper, “I have an _Inquisitor_ on board, and you know what they’re like. I’d rather they didn’t wonder about this little delay, yeah?”

The voice paused, “ _You may proceed. Land at Platform 8 and report for inspection. General Sael will be there to greet your… passenger.”_

The channel silenced itself with a click.

“Well,” Two-fer said. “Let’s hope they’re so distracted by your armor and ‘saber, General Tano, that they don’t think to look at the other ‘officers’ coming along on this ride.”

“You’ll need to hold General Sael’s attention as long as possible, Ahsoka,” Padmé said. “The rest of the command staff would be ideal, but General Sael is the important one here.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Won’t be the first time,” she said, her voice warped by the voice changer on her helmet. 

“Let us know when we’re about to land,” Padmé said to Two-fer. “I’m going to give a final debrief to the fighters.” 

She rose from her seat and set off down the short corridor to the passenger area as Ahsoka followed. The fighters were all clustered around Fives and Anakin – who Ahsoka was glad to see was looking less tense – as Fives regaled everyone with a story that Ahsoka vaguely recognized as being from the Clone Wars. But as soon as Padmé entered the room, all attention snapped to her.

“We’ll be landing soon,” she told them in the resulting silence. “The mission will proceed as planned. Unless there are drastic changes, we will rendezvous at Alpha site with as many local rebels as we can. Anakin, if you don’t mind, you’re with me.”

_Come on, Anakin,_ Ahsoka thought hard at her former master. _Whatever she said to you, put it aside._ But to his credit, Anakin barely paused before responding. 

“Of course,” he said, standing. “Whatever you need.”

There was shock in the rigidity of Padmé’s spine underneath her imperial uniform, but as always, she hid it well. 

“ _Two minutes to landing,_ ” Two-fer said over the loudspeaker. “ _Everybody get ready._ ” 

With one final brush of her fingers over the circle-hilted lightsaber at her hip (and the two familiar curved hilts hidden under her vambraces), Ahsoka moved to stand at the loading ramp, right where anyone outside of the ship would be hard-pressed to see her until she started moving. Behind her was a chorus of rustling as final armor checks were made and helmets were slapped on heads. By the time Two-fer placed the shuttle down on the landing pad, the inside of the passenger area didn’t look any different from that of an actual Imperial vessel.

General Sael was waiting for them on the landing pad.

To Ahsoka, he looked much the same as any other imperial officer: an old, pale-skinned man who’d probably been ironed into his own uniform when he got up. Judging by the number of attendants – who were standing as close to the landing pad as they could manage – that were following him, he was either one of those officers that enjoyed toadies or one of those officers who kept his people working. For all they made her skin crawl, Ahsoka hoped he was the former.

“Inquisitor,” Sael said, after Ahsoka had passed through the fog of the air tanks recirculating. “This is unexpected. I thought you would have diverted to land at the palace.”

Whenever Ahsoka had met an Inquisitor – and killed them – they tended to be too focused on spouting off phrases like, “You’re going to die, rebel scum!” to give her a feel for what they might be like around the general rank and file of the Imperial military, but she could make a decent enough guess.

She tilted her head and fixed him with the same look she gave to new recruits when she found them sleeping on the tibanna gas barrels. The look lost some of its coherency when filtered through her tinted faceplate, but she figured the black horns and featureless expanse of her helmet would get her point across well enough.

Sael faltered. “...that is, if you have orders there?”

“Are you asking me or telling me, General?” Ahsoka asked, her voice modulator flattening her words and turning them into the eerie clipped tones of a cyborg.

The general made a futile attempt at straightening. “Neither, of course. I just assumed–”

She fixed him with the look again, a part of her grinning at the sheen of sweat just beginning to dot his temples under his near-immaculate uniform hat. “Don’t assume, General. It doesn’t suit you.” She turned to face the line of “stormtroopers” emerging from the shuttle. “I am here on order to investigate this base, and your command structure, for any and all traitors in your midst.”

“Traitors?” Sael sputtered. “You’ll find I run a tight ship. There are no traitors here.”

Ahsoka tilted her head again – this time going for the look that Rex said she sometimes got when she was startled by something small and fast-moving. “Is that so?” she asked, nearly grinning when Sael just barely stopped himself from stepping away from her. “You’re not on a _ship_ right now, General. I think you’ll find that a city is far different than the closed environment of a star destroyer. There’s more rats, for one” _Sorry, Padmé._

He stiffened. “I’ve been running this installation for years, Inquisitor,” he said, his tone chilling so fast that Ahsoka could almost hear the icicles growing. “There are no traitors in my personnel.”

She watched Anakin and Padmé pass by, their hats pulled slightly lower over their faces than even Imperial regulations called for. “Well then, I hope you’re right, General. For your sake.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Ahsoka stalked into the Theed summer twilight, she fancied she could almost hear the sighs of relief drifting over the walls of the Imperial Complex. 

She’d glared and she’d “inspected” and she’d sneered audibly from behind her tinted faceplate as she stomped around every available inch of the Complex until frustration had rolled from General Sael in waves, and then she’d “inspected” some more. Hopefully her actions had kept the upper ranks of the Complex focused on her and their own fear and not on the fact that a small but steady number of “stormtroopers” were vanishing slowly from their assigned barracks.

It wasn’t a guaranteed distraction, unfortunately. There was always the possibility of some enterprising junior officer with too sharp an eye, but on a planet as subdued and peaceful as Naboo, Ahsoka was willing to bet that any sharp eyes had been dulled by boredom a while ago.

The second she was out of sight of the Complex’s main gate, she ducked into a darkened side alleyway, shrugging into the small, ragged bundle that had been tucked under a loose brick earlier that day. An Inquisitor’s uniform was good for intimidating Imperial Officers, but it tended to be noticeable in the more civilian parts of the city. That plus her non-human stature, and Ahsoka would stick out like a fyrnock on Tatooine to anyone who could see her.

Provided, of course, they ever looked underground.

Nestled in the folds of the ratty poncho that Ahsoka shrugged on over her black armor was a small, weathered piece of flimsi that was inked with spidery black lines that crossed over each other and looped around. Some of the lines marked an uneven grid, but most did not, and at a particularly dense cluster of lines – and nearby a great black rectangle – a tiny black diamond dotted a corner between two faded black scratches.

Ahsoka padded down the alleyway – now garbed in a nice, unassuming brown – and listened carefully for the faint echo of rushing water. At the far end of the alley lay a scuffed sewer grate, nearly invisible in the dim evening light. But when Ahsoka reached out with the Force, the sewer grate lifted free of the surrounding cobblestones with barely a screech or a scrape. So she gathered her tattered robes close and let herself drop into the grimy sewer tunnel, replacing the grate behind her.

She came back up on the south side of the city, in a neighborhood that still had the typical domed roofs and marble columns of the rest of Theed, but the marble was cracked and weathered, windows and doors were shuttered against the night, and the people who may otherwise have had their gazes looking out the windows at a cloaked and hooded Togruta were hunkered down inside their homes.

But in one home, tucked away behind a boarded up bakery and behind a crumbling school, there was a single candle in the window, casting its feeble light against the darkness. Ahsoka moved closer and there, carved into the corner of the door, was the flower emblem of the Royal House of Naboo, covered over with dirt and half hidden behind a pile of rubbish.

She rapped gently on the door, taking care that her knocks didn’t echo down the street. The door never moved, but Ahsoka could feel a shift in the Force; a dozen minds coming to sudden rapt attention. She clicked her comlink twice, then three times, then twice again, and the door pulled open just enough for her to squeeze past. 

Inside, the home had clearly been abandoned until recently, with thick layers of dust over the windowsills and along the edges of the floor. But cots and bedrolls had been pushed up against the walls and a small fire was burning merrily in the fireplace, its light reflecting off the worn haggard faces of a number of Theed rebels and Padmé, Anakin, and Rex. 

“This is Fulcrum,” Padmé announced to the room at large. “She was instrumental in getting us past security at the Imperial complex.”

Ahsoka nodded at the suspicious faces turned in her direction, and carefully crossed over to the corner that Rex had claimed, leaning up against the wall, while Padmé turned back to her quiet conversation with what appeared to be the leaders of the local Rebel cell.

“Anything I miss?” she asked, pulling off the wrappings on her lekku.

“Nothing much,” Rex replied, holding a hand out for the discarded wrappings and stuffing them into a small bag. “We’re waiting on the General’s contact, who’s running late, apparently.”

She unsnapped the armor plating from the underweave, taking care to stack the plates in a neat pile along the wall. “Anything we need to handle?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t look like they’re too worried yet. Though if you hadn’t come along I might have said something.”

She scanned the small room – two rooms really, though there was a large door opening the wall between them – and frowned when she didn’t see Anakin. “Where’s Anakin?”

“Down in the basement. Apparently there’s a few broken speeders they’ve been storing there. He said he’d try his hand at them until the General’s contact showed up.” He paused, looking uncomfortable. “Did… General Skywalker say anything to you? It’s been frostier than an afternoon on Hoth since we got down here.”

Ahsoka shook her head, lekku sliding over her shoulders. “No, I haven’t heard about anything from either of them. I just hope it won’t affect the mission.”

“General Skywalker is a professional, he’ll pull through.”

She raised a brow-marking. “We are talking about the same Anakin, right?”

Rex smiled behind his beard. “I remember. But he isn’t angry, that I can tell, just bothered by something. He’ll put it behind when we get down to it.”

As Ahsoka stepped into the earth-brown shirt and pants that Rex handed her, there was a commotion from the basement, and Anakin – with grease on his fingers – stomped up the stairs with his hands raised above his head, followed by a dark-skinned man who was holding the blaster.

“Found this one in the basement. Said he was a Jedi,” the man said, prodding Anakin forward with his blaster.

Padmé rose gracefully from the hushed conference she’d been having in the corner and turned to face Anakin and his captor. “That would be because he is, Captain Korro. That man is Anakin Skywalker.”

Captain Korro blinked before putting away his blaster with a sheepish grimace. “My apologies then, Master Jedi.”

“No harm done,” Anakin replied, though Ahsoka could feel his annoyance in the Force. “I should have told you I was with the Rebellion.”

Korro nodded awkwardly, then strode back to the staircase to the basement. “All clear,” he hissed, and almost immediately, a young woman popped out of the stairwell, followed almost immediately by another young woman who looked nearly identical to the first.

“My lady,” Korro sighed in a manner that said that this had been an often-repeated argument. “When I say you need to wait at a safe distance, would you _please_ wait at a safe distance?”

The first young woman wrinkled her nose at him. “This place has been staked out for weeks, Korro. I very much doubt one lone Jedi mechanic is going to do anything to me.” She looked around the room eagerly, then grinned as her eyes focused on Padmé. “My lady,” she said, making her way through the room as various Rebels moved aside for her. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’m Sosha Soruna.”

Padmé smiled. “The honor is mine, your Highness. I’m sorry to have come at such a dark time in our planet’s history.”

If Ahsoka remembered correctly – and judging by the way the rebels in the room deferred to the young woman – Sosha Soruna was the ruling queen of Naboo, and a staunch supporter of the Rebellion despite having been put in power through Palpatine’s machinations.

Sosha’s grin grew teeth, and Ahsoka was struck by just how similar Padmé and Sosha looked. It wasn’t their facial features – neither woman looked much alike at all – instead it was the sheer tenacity and ferocity in their gazes that were near mirror images of each other, despite the years between them.

“I’d say you’ve come at a perfect time,” Sosha was saying. “And if you’ve brought both Anakin Skywalker _and_ Fulcrum with you, then we should have no problem at all evicting the Emperor from the Palace.”

Padmé’s eyes grew cold. “The Emperor is in the Palace?”

Sosha nodded. “He took control a little over a month ago. I barely had enough time to move out the loyal members of my court.” Her face hardened, dark eyes glinting. “As it is, he still has one of my handmaidens.”

Padmé frowned. “This complicates things.” She glanced back at Sosha. “Have you been able to get any intel about what he’s doing there?”

Sosha shook her head. “Nothing. All we know is that he’s been bringing in Inquisitors by the shuttle-load. There’s been five confirmed sightings of Inquisitors headed to the palace in the past week alone, and they’re just the latest ones this month.”

Ahsoka’s stomach clenched. “We’ll need to know the number of Inquisitors, as many as your people can remember.”

“We can’t fight Inquisitors,” one of the rebels muttered. “What good will numbers do us against _them._ ”

“We will not ask you to fight Inquisitors,” Padmé said. “The numbers are not for you. But we _will_ need to know them if our plan is to succeed.”

Captain Korro spoke up, his face troubled. “You mean to continue with your plan then, my lady?”

“I am,” Padmé replied.

“Even if she wasn’t,” Sosha interjected. “I would be. Naboo has gone on long enough under the heel of this idiot. I’m taking our city back, Inquisitors or no.”

“The Rebellion will handle the Inquisitors,” Padmé said firmly. “All we need from you is a way into the Palace. Will the tunnels work?”

Sosha grinned. “A few of them should still be undetected.”

“Then those are our way in,” Padmé said, pulling out a map of the Palace that Rebel operatives had “liberated” a few months earlier. “Show me where.”

Rex and Ahsoka shared a glance before bending to double and triple check their weaponry. Ahsoka figured they would need it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Anakin**

Dawn rose chill and damp over the rooftops and domes of Theed, the pale light of the sun stifled by the fog rising from the river and creeping over the Solleu Cliffs.

Anakin crouched next to Padmé and Ahsoka on the rooftop of the Theed Public Library, peering through binoculars trained on the stormtroopers crowding the Palace gate.

“ _Same amount as always,_ ” came the muffled whisper of Sosha Soruna’s voice through their coms. “Good. They won’t know what hit them.”

Anakin wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the young Queen, but the grim satisfaction in her voice was something he could understand all too easily. And if this plan let them kill Palpatine…

“All units, sync timers on my mark,” Padmé said. “Three, two, one, mark.”

Sunlight crept over the top of the Library dome, turning the silver strands in Padmé’s hair to gold and putting the first touches of rosy light on the domed helmets of the stormtroopers at the top of the Palace wall and around the gate.

For a moment, all Anakin could hear was the distant roar of the falls – both foreign and familiar – and the faint chirping of birds as they rose to greet the morning.

Then the explosions started.

The first was a rumble of sound from the Imperial Complex that rolled over the river towards the Library like a tidal wave of dust and smoke, with fire reaching towards the new dawn. Then the others started, little puffs of colored smoke and flame with more noise than destruction. They ricocheted around the city in an uncertain pattern, but no matter where your head turned to track one explosion, you could be sure that you’d have to look in the opposite direction to track the next.

A group of rebels erupted from the alleyway nearest the Palace gate, catching the disoriented stormtroopers there off-guard. Anakin presumed the fight went well, considering the lack of blaster fire after a few minutes, but he couldn’t say for certain without breaking from the group and going to check.

Padmé, Ahsoka, and the rest of the rebels that had followed them to the roof of the Library were descending the way they came, making a beeline for a small park just off to the side of the Palace gate where another group of Rebels were already standing guard dressed as stormtroopers. At least, they would be if the symbol of the Rebel Alliance wasn’t emblazoned on their shoulders in messy red.

“General.” the “troopers” saluted as Padmé, Ahsoka, and Queen Soruna came closer – Anakin was bringing up the rear of the group as per the decisions made in the plans the night before. “Your Highness. The tunnels should still be clear up to the next junction. Our scans were unable to penetrate further.”

“Well done,” said Queen Soruna, flashing the guards a reassuring grin. She pulled aside a curtain of hanging vines from the Palace wall and pressed her hand against one brick that was larger and squarer than the rest. With barely a whisper of noise, part of the wall next to the brick swung forwards, revealing a ladder going down into the earth.

“If our intel is correct, the tunnels should be clear all the way to the throne room,” Soruna said. “I’m guessing you remember the way?”

Padmé gave the young woman a slow smile that was somehow kind and bloodthirsty all at once. “I remember. Thank you, your Highness.”

“Thank _you_ , General. I look forward to seeing our people free again.” With that – and with Captain Korro’s reminding hand on her elbow – Queen Soruna headed north to circle around the Palace and catch any stragglers who were willing to fight the Empire.

Anakin waited for the rest of the rebels – save for the false stormtroopers – to disappear into the secret tunnel. Then, with a quiet chime on his comlink from Ahsoka, he dropped down the ladder, using the Force to both slow his fall and close the door after him.

He landed next to Padmé, who was regarding him with a hint of a smile on her face.

“You never change, do you, Ani?” she asked.

Part of him wanted to snap at her. How could he have changed? But he stomped on the impulse and grinned the impulsive grin that had sent Obi-wan into conniptions more than once. “It’d be less fun if I did.”

Her answering smile went a long way towards soothing the hurt of the past few days.

“Remember,” she said, turning to the rest of the group in the tunnel with them. (Anakin blinked as he noticed that the group was made up of only the rebels that had come with them in the Imperial shuttle.) “Palpatine is likely to be well guarded, most likely by Inquisitors. Remember your training and trust your partners and we will get through this.”

“Master Skywalker and I will handle as much of the Inquisitors as we can,” Ahsoka said with a smile curling her lips. “Do try not to shoot us while you’re distracting them.”

A smattering of laughter rippled through the group, and Padmé smiled. “May the Force be with us all.”

“May the Force be with us,” came the muttered reply – even from the clones, to Anakin’s surprise – and the group fell in behind Padmé as she started off down the tunnel.

Anakin stayed with the group, his senses open for any footsteps or voices coming down the tunnel that was not their own. But a mile passed, and then another, and he still heard nothing.

Rex fell in beside him, dressed now in a beaten and battered version of his old clone armor, minus the helmet, but other than a shared nod of acknowledgement, neither Anakin nor Rex spoke as they followed the group down the dark gloom of the tunnels.

The thunder of the falls was pressing close around Anakin’s ears when they finally stopped, though from the whispering coming down the line, he didn’t think they stopped because they’d found the door to the throne room. 

“ _Skyguy,”_ came the sudden blast of sound from his comlink. _“We need you up here. Bring Rex with you.”_

Blaster fire echoed down the tunnel, sparking off the tiled ceiling and forcing everyone into a defensive crouch.

Anakin shouldered his way past the other rebels, who pressed themselves against the walls of the tunnel to make way for him and Rex, who trailed close on his heels. Padmé, Ahsoka, and a few others were clustered on either side of a narrow doorway, tucked behind the lip of the doorframe to avoid the furious blaster-fire that splashed on the opposite wall, chipping and charring the tiles that lined the tunnel.

“We need you and Ahsoka to clear a path,” Padmé said, once Anakin and Rex got closer. “Commander Rex and I will follow with the rest, but we can’t get through that firing line without help.”

Anakin chanced a peek around the lip of the doorframe, only to yank his head back behind cover when a hail of blaster-fire nearly took his face off. “Looks like a turret,” he told Ahsoka, who grinned.

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“No witnesses,” Padmé reminded them. “We’ll disable their communications just before you push forward, but we can’t let anyone know either of you two are coming.”

Anakin winked at her, a little thrill of amusement igniting in his chest at the flush of color that rose to Padmé’s cheekbones. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” He caught Ahsoka’s gaze, tilting his head in the direction he intended to go, and she nodded, pulling her ‘sabers from her belt and tensing in readiness.

They leapt through the door one after another, blue and white lightsabers flashing against the barrage from the turret and surrounding stormtroopers. Two droid poppers slid past Anakin’s and Ahsoka’s feet – likely thrown by Padmé and Rex – and the stormtroopers that hadn’t been shot by the bolts reflected back by the lightsabers collapsed as electricity danced across their armor and settled on their helmets, frying the comms inside.

Anakin shoved his lightsaber into the turret’s controls, narrowly avoiding the groaning stormtrooper lying slumped over the console, withdrawing the blade as smoke and sparks began to pour from the bottom of the turret. “All clear!” he called back to Padmé.

The rebels shuffled into the room, a few breaking off to secure the still living stormtroopers while others took up lookout posts on the doorway to the tunnels. Padmé moved to the door to the Palace, her slim fingers carefully removing the front of the control panel for the door and separating out the wires.

“There,” she said, reseating the control panel as Anakin blinked at her in amazement. “This shouldn’t trip any alarms, but we may have a hard time opening it again after it closes.”

“We’ll find another way out,” Ahsoka said, eyeing the door thoughtfully. “Rex, pull together three teams to come with us, and get some traps on the doorway to the tunnels. We don’t want anyone coming in behind us.”

The Rebels divided easily into squads – Anakin amusedly noted that the squad leaders were all clones – and settled into place on either side of the door, waiting for Ahsoka or Padmé to give the go-ahead. After one final glance to be sure they were all prepared, Padmé punched in a code and the door slid open, revealing an utterly empty hallway.

Anakin threw up a hand, urging Padmé and the others to wait as he stepped through the door with his ‘saber in a ready position. The hallway was just as he remembered: golden-veined marble in geometric designs on the floor, red marble columns leading up to a gently arched ceiling, and the delicate early morning light that crept through the windows and gilded ever edge with silver. It would have been an idyllic scene, were it not for the underlying feeling of rot and cold that drifted through the Force like swamp mist, clinging to everything it touched.

Anakin tightened his grip on his ‘saber, and with an apologetic thought towards Padmé, he flashed a few hand signals at Rex that he hoped his old Captain would remember. “ _Dark ahead,”_ he signed, using signals that probably hadn’t been used since the Clone Wars. “ _Jedi front. Troopers behind, cover flanks.”_

He stepped forward, trusting Rex to remember the decades-old hand signals. If he didn’t...well…

But Ahsoka stepped into place at his right, and he could feel the sudden focus of the men and women behind him as they shuffled quietly into place. Padmé knelt at the door controls, her brow furrowed as she coaxed the cover off the door controls and poised her hands over the wires that would slide the door open, waiting for Anakin’s signal.

“Padmé, I…” Anakin began, but she threw him a look, her lips pressed into the thin lines that meant she didn’t like her circumstances but would work with them, within reason. 

“...stay behind me. Please.” 

She scrutinized him for a long moment, her dark eyes sliding past all the shields he’d ever tried to put up against her. He wasn’t sure what she saw there, but eventually she nodded and turned back to the control panel, waiting.

“Alright, on my mark,” Anakin whispered. “Three. Two. One...Mark.”

The doors slid open into darkness and blood-red shadows, and the Dark Side rolled over them like a wave of slime, setting skin to crawling and tugging at everyone’s mind with gleeful abandon.

Anakin slammed down on his mental shields, holding fast against the initial surge of revulsion before he stepped through the doorway and into the throne room, his lightsaber surrounding him in a comforting pool of cool, blue light. Behind him, Ahsoka and the rest of the rebels followed, their emotions flickering between revulsion and horror like a sputtering flame to his senses. But it was Padmé’s sharp, indrawn gasp and sudden flash of fury that pulled Anakin’s attention to the Throne room around them.

Gone were the golden creme-colored columns and the chair of state that had stood on the raised dais for thousands of years. Gone were the gleaming floor tiles and the sumptuous carpets that were the result of a lifetime of work from a craftsperson long dead. Instead the airy gauze curtains had been replaced by hard metal shutters, blocking the light and turning what were probably rich red velvet carpets into pools of shadow that looked like dried blood. Where the throne had been – a beautifully carved chair of golden-toned wood – now loomed an angular metal monstrosity, bare and flat but for the blinking lights and control consoles on the armrests.

For a moment, Anakin almost thought the throne room was empty, but then a dry, creaking laugh rattled out from the metal throne and the shadows parted just enough to reveal a wrinkled, pale chin and glowing yellow eyes peeking out from under an enveloping hood.

“Anakin Skywalker,” said Emperor Palpatine – Darth Sidious, Anakin reminded himself, his stomach churning with revulsion – rising creakily from his chair. “Let me have a look at you, my boy.”

Anakin’s hands tightened on his ‘saber hilt until his synthleather glove creaked, but he didn’t move.

“I’m sorry you had to find out this way,” Sidious crooned. “I would have spared you this pain if I could, my boy.”

“I’m not your _anything_ ,” Anakin spat, raising his ‘saber into a guard stance. “You destroyed the Jedi Order. You killed _billions_ of innocent people!”

Sidious paused, peering shrewdly at Anakin from under the veiling edge of his dark hood. “Is that was these Rebels told you?” he asked in the same kindly tone that had once come from a newly elected Supreme Chancellor so many years ago. “My boy, I’ve only ever had the galaxy’s best interests at heart.” He descended the dais, advancing step by step until the hem of his robes just brushed the pool of light emanating from Anakin’s lightsaber. 

This close, Anakin could almost see Sidious’ sepulchral mask of a face in its entirety, with its corpse-yellow skin and ridged wrinkles that belied even the faintest hope there was anything even remotely human left, and had to force himself to keep his eyes open and fixed on the Sith lord despite the revulsion that shivered over him in waves. 

“You’re lying,” Anakin bit out, leveling his lightsaber until the tip of the blade was just inches from Sidious’ sunken nose. If he just had a few more seconds, he could get to the blade controls and the fight would be over…

“Don’t be obtuse,” Sidious hissed, his eyes flashing. “You know how corrupt the Jedi Order was. You _saw_. Can you blame me for trying to save innocent lives, to save _you?”_

“You’ve saved no one.” Anakin’s fingers twitched by his blade controls, though Sidious had stepped just out of reach. “Especially not me. The Rebellion did that.”

Sidious laughed, the sound rattling around the room like a clatter of old bones in a rockslide. “Who do you think led your precious Rebellion to your resting place?” His smile grew sly. “Who do you think pursued the knowledge of your disappearance farther than the Rebellion ever did?”

Behind him, Anakin felt Ahsoka’s slowly rising anger pressing warm against his back, and he seized on the feeling as Sidious continued.

“Your friends didn’t want _you._ They wanted a _weapon_ ,” the Sith lord crooned, carefully shuffling forward until he was just inside Anakin’s reach. “My dear boy… If you joined me, I could give you peace. You wouldn’t have to fight anymore for people who don’t care about you, who don’t–”

There was a hiss, and the acrid smell of burned fabric as Anakin’s saber sliced through Sidious’ hood to hover just inches away from the Sith lord’s face.

“Stop. Talking.” Anakin snarled, his fingers itching to just reach out and _crush_ – “Everything you’re saying is a lie. Everything you’ve _ever_ said is a lie.” He pressed the lightsaber closer, until Anakin could see Sidious’ skin blistering under the heat, though the Sith didn’t move, didn’t flinch. In fact, he did nothing but stare back at Anakin with fierce yellow eyes.

“There is _nothing_ you could do or say that would convince me to turn against the Rebellion, Sith,” Anakin seethed. “I am a _Jedi_ , like my master before me.”

The Dark Side, which until now had been twitching and shivering against him like a cliffborer worm testing a new feeding ground, faded into an unsettling blankness.

“How disappointing,” Sidious sneered, and with a twist of his fingers, flung Anakin backwards into Ahsoka, sending them both to the ground. 

Around them, the rest of the rebels stepped forward, blasters pointed at the falsely diminutive figure in their midst, but the Sith lord only laughed.

“It would have been easier for you to join me, my boy,” Sidious said, turning back to his throne and beginning his slow, creeping ascent until he resettled himself in the shadows that crowded around the hunk of metal, despite the lights on the armrest consoles. “But I suppose, as a test, you will have to do.”

He crooked one skeletal finger and from behind every column of the Throne Room stepped a black-robed Inquisitor, all armed with the strange circle-hilted lightsaber Anakin had seen Ahsoka wearing.

Rex barked a command, and the rebels shifted position, taking up firing lines in a loose circle around Anakin, Ahsoka, and Padmé, their blasters focusing on the Inquisitors without hesitation.

The Force whispered a warning that shivered across Anakin’s senses just as another black-robed figure stepped out from behind the throne itself and stood by the Emperor’s right hand.

“I must thank you for killing my last apprentice,” Sidious said with a toothy grin. “He would have had to be disposed of eventually, so you saved me a great deal of trouble.”

“You’re next,” Anakin snapped, shoving himself up off the floor and back into a ready stance, even as the Force’s whispers surged against his senses. “So quit hiding behind your bully puppets and face me.”

Sidious’ smile widened. “I think not.” He raised his hand and casually stroked the sleeve of the figure beside him. “If you will not join me, _Jedi_ , then you shall die, and my new apprentice shall be your executioner.”

The figure moved then, shifting just slightly under Sidious’ hand before reaching up and pulling away the hood covering their face, revealing the gleam of a silver collar and a face that Anakin knew almost better than his own.

”Obi-wan?” Anakin whispered, his grip on his lightsaber faltering.

Behind him, Ahsoka cursed, her anger flaring sharp and hot against his spine.

Obi-wan didn’t move, save for a minute twitch of his head towards Sidious.

“Lord Sicarius,” Sidious ordered. “Kill them.”

Obi-wan leapt off the dais, somersaulting through the air towards Anakin while the Inquisitors around the room ignited their blades, and whirling slashes of red lit up the room.

Anakin caught Obi-wan’s blade on his, the red and blue lightsabers crackling where they met, and shoved him back, leveling his blade at Obi-wan’s face. Around him, Ahsoka and the rest of the rebels scattered into groups of three and four, trying to keep the Inquisitors incapacitated enough so they wouldn’t join the fight against Anakin.

“Obi-wan, what _happened_ to you. What– _Kriff!”_ Obi-wan swung at Anakin’s head, sidestepping Anakin’s parry and pressing close enough that Anakin could see the color of his eyes, an unfamiliar reddish-brown. 

“Obi-wan Kenobi is no more,” Sidious gloated from his throne. “He died long ago. However, I daresay that Lord Sicarius will be more than enough for you, Jedi.”

Anakin grimaced, but kept an eye on Obi-wan as his former Master circled around him. Something was… off, more so than Obi-wan being a Sith. (If he weren’t in danger of losing more than just another limb, Anakin would have been laughing his head off. Obi-wan a Sith?) No, there was something else, something elusive.

He let himself fall into the pattern of trading blows, always conscious of Obi-wan pressing closer and harder with each strike, but even with whatever it was that Sidious had done to him, Obi-wan’s fighting style was similar enough that Anakin could generally predict where Obi-wan would strike next.

“C’mon, Obi-wan,” Anakin said, ducking under a series of swipes that should have taken his head off at the shoulders. “You _know_ me.” Obi-wan’s saber glanced off Anakin’s prosthetic arm and he cursed. “Cut it out!”

But still Obi-wan pressed forward, implacable and unmoved, and step-by-step, drove Anakin back.

The Dark Side followed, surging against Anakin’s shields with hooked, probing claws with every strike Obi-wan made. It skittered around the edges of his mind, pushing harder than he’d ever felt before, until his eyes watered and he could barely see the garish red blade of Obi-wan’s lightsaber for the blurring tears.

Anakin slammed against a pillar, his head rocking back and cracking hard against the unforgiving stone as his and Obi-wan’s crossed ‘sabers moved close enough that he could feel the looming heat against his face. The Dark Side still raged, still _searched_ for any way into his mind it could find, but the knock on his head cleared things a bit, leaving Anakin just enough concentration to take the Force and shove Obi-wan’s saber up, even as he struck out blindly, swinging his lightsaber through the air until it met with abrupt resistance…

The Dark Side shrank back, leaving Anakin gasping even as he resettled into a guard position, blinked away the blurriness in his vision, and searched for Obi-wan, who was standing almost two meters away with his hand to his throat and a strange look on his previously motionless face.

Around them, battles raged. The rebels had scattered to the corners of the room, working hard to avoid the swirling red blades of the Inquisitors. Padmé and Rex were back to back by one column, their blasters raised and firing in frantic bursts. Ahsoka was locked in combat with two Inquisitors, their blades hungry and grasping even as they locked against her white ‘sabers. But where Anakin and Obi-wan stood, there was only a hushed, expectant silence.

“Obi-wan?” Anakin asked softly, trying to shove down the fear that he’d killed his former master. Obi-wan _was_ still standing, but Anakin hadn’t been able to see what he’d been striking at – _sloppy, Anakin, sloppy_ – and now Obi-wan stood with a hand to his throat... “ _Obi-wan?_ ”

Obi-wan’s hand dropped, but there was no blood, nor any scent of charred flesh, much to Anakin’s relief. The only sign that Anakin had even landed a hit was a blackened stain on the silver collar around Obi-wan’s neck.

The collar… 

“Obi-wan. It’s the collar!” Anakin shouted over the roar of the fights around them. “It’s the collar that’s made you this way. _You need to take it off!_ ”

Obi-wan tilted his head, like a wolf listening for scurrying prey, and his eyes sharpened into an even bloodier red-gold.

“You want the collar, Jedi?” he asked in a voice that croaked like the last gasps of the dying. “Come and get it.” 

He turned and ran, barreling through a group of rebels surrounding an Inquisitor and scattering them like chaff. With a breathless curse, Anakin followed, knocking the Inquisitor down with a slicing blow through her armored mid-section and shoving past the disoriented rebels as he followed his former Master towards the back of the throne room.

But before he could get closer, the windows – metal shutters and all – _shattered,_ scattering shards of glass and twisted scraps of metal onto marble floors, rebels, and Inquisitors alike. In the sudden flare of daylight, Anakin could see Obi-wan leap onto the windowsill, his boots crunching on the remaining glass. Their eyes met, and with a triumphant snarl, Obi-wan leaned backwards and plummeted out of sight.

Anakin choked on a yell, reaching out with the Force so he could do something, _anything_ , to catch him… but Obi-wan was gone.

_Wait,_ the Force whispered. _Look closer._ _Look_ deeper.

So he threw out his senses, sliding over the minute spots of darkness that were the Inquisitors and the curious blankness that had to be the Emperor, until he found a roiling knot of conflict, acidic hate bubbling against freezing sorrow, emanating from the rooftops of the palace far below.

Waiting.

Anakin leaned forward, his entire mind bent on following Obi-wan, but then a nagging thought interceded, and he hesitated, glancing back at the chaos behind him.

Even though the exploding windows had cut through nearly everyone without the wherewithal to dodge the glass, rebels and Inquisitors alike were taking up arms and resuming their fights (with varying success.) In fact, one Inquisitor, his Rebel opponents still disoriented, turned his saber towards Anakin and leapt at him with a bloodthirsty grin.

Anakin cursed and yanked his ‘saber to a guard position, but the Inquisitor never reached him. Instead, he tumbled to the floor with two smoking holes in the back of his dusty black breastplate, and Anakin looked up to see Rex staring him down, his blasters raised and smoking.

“Go get General Kenobi, sir.” Rex said, casually winging another shot at another Inquisitor, this time clipping them in the head. “We’ve got these wannabe Sith right where we want them.”

With a grin, Anakin saluted, and leapt out the window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Ahsoka**

Ahsoka threw herself backwards when the windows blew, tucking and rolling behind a pillar in an effort to avoid the silvered death that glittered and sang through the air, only to rain down upon the floor like so many broken bells. But despite her efforts, the shrapnel still cut shivering lines of heat across her brow and arms, followed by the slow, slick seep of blood.

On the far side of the room, she could hear Anakin’s wordless shout and felt his shock rippling towards her in the Force, but with the blood dripping into her right eye and the cool, triumphant grins of the Inquisitors she was facing, she couldn’t even spare a thought in Anakin’s direction, lest she run into her own problems.

“Well, Fulcrum,” warbled the helmet-distorted voice of one of the Inquisitors – a Mirialan woman that Ahsoka had fought several times before. “You and your companions look a little worse for wear. Maybe you should just give _up._ ” She swung at Ahsoka’s right side, her ‘saber humming viciously as it slid off Ahsoka’s shoto blade. “We’ll take it easy on you.”

“Not a chance,” Ahsoka grit out, disengaging their ‘sabers. “Why? Are you scared?”

The Inquisitor’s face mask precluded Ahsoka from seeing her expression, but memory supplied it anyways: a curled lip beneath an elegant sneer that twisted what would have otherwise been a striking face into a caricature of disgust. “Why would I need to be afraid of a few corpses?”

A subtle shift in the Force alerted Ahsoka to movement on her back right side, and she side-stepped just quickly enough to avoid being caught by the rush of movement from the other Inquisitor she’d been facing, though this one she didn’t recognize.

“Don’t play with your food, Sister.” The other Inquisitor said, his voice toneless. “Finish the kill and be done with it.” He struck repeatedly at Ahsoka, driving her back and back and back as she tried to sidestep the sheer driving power of his lightsaber blows. 

The Mirialan Inquisitor laughed with glee and followed, her own strikes flickering around the other Inquisitor in rapid counterpoint, until it was all Ahsoka could do to deflect both of them. Her heel struck a hard surface, ending her retreat, but when she spared a tiny glance at her surroundings, she found that she hadn’t backed up against a pillar like she’d hoped.

No, she was pinned against the far wall of the throne room, separated from the rest of the Rebels, and with a full and perfect view of the sudden influx of gleaming white stormtroopers that filed in from every available door, circling around the remaining Rebels.

The Mirialan Inquisitor pressed a control to retract her face-plate, tilting her head until it was within Ahsoka’s field of vision. “Well? Want to give up yet?” Her dark-gold eyes glittered with triumph.

The other Inquisitor leveled his ‘saber at Ahsoka’s throat, ignoring the shoto blade that immediately came up to block it. “Surrender now, Jedi, and your death and the deaths of your companions will be swift and painless.”

Ahsoka bared her teeth at them, shifting her lightsabers into a constrained guard stance, with the one shoto blade blocking the ‘saber at her throat, and her normal blade held in a reverse grip, blocking her left side. 

“You haven’t killed me yet,” she snarled. A flicker of movement by the windows caught her eye. “And I doubt you ever will.”

The Mirialan Inquisitor grinned in reply, her bone-white teeth gleaming bright in the gray-green shadows of her face. She pressed forward, sliding the tip of her blood-red ‘saber against Ahsoka’s in a crackling line of eagerness…

...only to freeze in surprise as a detonator rolled past her foot, coming to rest a mere foot beyond her boot.

Ahsoka seized on the distraction, _shoving_ outward with the Force, sending Inquisitors – and the live detonator – flying. The Inquisitors slammed into the closest pillar – which was still 20 meters away – and collapsed in a heap on top of the detonator, just as its warning indicator flashed brightly one last time…

Ahsoka winced and turned her face away, shielding it with her hand from the sudden rain of bits and debris. Once nothing else was hitting her face, she hurriedly scrubbed at her eyes, clearing the blood that had run into them from the gash on her head, then turned back to the room at large, taking in the situation at a glance.

A riotous mix of Rebels, Stormtroopers, and a few remaining Inquisitors filled the throne room from wall to wall, and were nearly obscured by the bright lights of the blaster-fire and lightsabers that flickered throughout the room. But through the open windows, a steady stream of fighters on ascension cables slid into the room and engaged the Imperial troops, catching them between the ragtag infiltration team and the newcomers – some of whom, Ahsoka was pleased to note, carried lightsabers.

With her vision clear, Ahsoka leapt back into the fray, eliminating the last Inquisitors and deflecting fire back at the stormtroopers until the last bucket-head fell.

“Padmé?” Ahsoka called, sliding her ‘sabers back onto her belt. “Rex?”

“Here!” Rex called back, and Ahsoka wove her way through bodies – living and dead – until she could reach Rex and Padmé, standing on the dais by the Emperor’s empty chair.

“You alright?” Rex asked as she approached, frowning at the blood covering the right side of her face. 

“I’m fine,” Ahsoka replied, “Just got nicked from the windows going out. ...Where’s Anakin?”

“He went after General Kenobi,” Rex told her. “They’re somewhere on the rooftops below.”

“And the Emperor?”

Padmé pressed a command sequence on the Emperor’s chair, her mouth pursed in annoyance – an expression that only darkened as a section of floor behind the chair slid open to reveal a staircase leading into darkness.

“Palpatine’s escaped,” Padmé said. “And I’m not sending fighters after a Sith lord in a tunnel. No, not even you, Ahsoka.” 

Ahsoka grimaced. “We can’t just let him _go_.”

“No. We cannot. But neither can we pursue him at the moment.” 

Through the open window, a roar was growing, the sound of a populace grown tired and complacent suddenly coming back to life… with a vengeance. An explosion rumbled over the city, setting Ahsoka’s bones to shivers, and she glanced warily at the morning sunlight.

“Generals? Commander?” Fives said, walking stiffly up the stairs. He also bled heavily from a cut above his eyebrow, but his voice was as calm and unruffled as ever. “We have a shuttle waiting to take you back to the fleet. The Imperials have just jumped into hyperspace.”

Padmé frowned at the clunky metal chair Palpatine called a throne, then nodded. “Have someone collect General Skywalker… but be wary. He may be fighting O–” her mouth tightened. “He may be fighting a Sith.”

At Fives’ signal, an old LAAT/i shuttle lowered into view outside the throne room windows, and Ahsoka, Rex, and Padmé all jumped into it, while the rest of the fighters finished securing the throne room behind them.

Ahsoka looked for the telltale flash of blue and red lightsabers that would show where Anakin had gone, but instead all she could see was a haze of smoke hovering over the city, thickening as they passed out of the Palace grounds and moved towards the city proper. Then the shuttle swung around to the west, heading for the Rebel airfields located outside the city, and Ahsoka’s breath caught in her throat.

Theed – the capital city of the shining jewel of the Mid Rim – _burned_.

Fires had caught at the edges of the city, in the poorer neighborhoods, and despite Theed’s network of rivers, the fires didn’t look to be stopping anytime soon. Everywhere Ahsoka looked, destruction had left its indelible stamp on the proud buildings and archways of the Naboo capital.

Ahsoka glanced at Padmé, but the other woman’s face was a mask, staring frozen and immutable over the ruins of her former residence as the fires raged below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Anakin**

Smoke was rising from the city of Theed, sliding into his eyes and pulling out stinging tears as Anakin plummeted towards the rooftops below. As he fell, the haze below him slowly resolved into the red and cream marble domes of the Palace’s Administrative Wing, tucked close beneath the main bulk of the palace proper.

He could see Obi-wan now, a speck of black and red staining the clean lines of the nearest dome, and he angled himself in that direction, reaching out with the Force to cushion his fall. He hit the near side of the dome with bruising force, his fingers scrabbling for purchase. Finally, the fingers of his prosthetic hand caught in the marble, slowing him to a stop while his synthleather glove crisped and burned from the friction. 

He clung to the stone, his feet braced against a slight lip in the dome’s surface while his breath fanned heat against his mouth and throat where they were pressed against the cool marble. Far above, he could hear a croaking, mocking laughter and the crash of a lightsaber against stone, while beneath it all was the creeping slickness of the Dark Side, sliding down the dome until it brushed against the edges of his mind, pressing into his shields

Anakin snarled against the sensation and flung himself into the air in a maneuver only a Force-wielder could accomplish, rolling mid-air into a front flip and landing squarely opposite where Obi-wan waited.

“Obi-wan you need to stop this,” Anakin said. “You’re _stronger_ than this thing, I know you are.”

“You assume this wasn’t by my choice,” Obi-wan rasped, his red-and-gold eyes wild. “Do you think Darth Sidious could have done this to me if I didn’t want him to?”

Anakin’s heart clenched, but though his lips twitched, the rest of his face stayed impassive. “Then take the collar off. If this really is what you want, then you don’t need a Dark-Side artifact to tell you how to manage it.”

There was… _something_ , a flicker of brown in Obi-wan’s eyes perhaps, but then the Dark Side _surged_ and the collar around Obi-wan’s neck writhed without moving, and the something was gone, smothered under the flash of Obi-wan’s red ‘saber as it descended towards Anakin’s face.

Their ‘sabers met in a clash of blue and red, the Force straining between them.

Anakin shoved hard, sweeping his lightsaber towards Obi-wan’s feet, sending the older man dancing back across the rooftop. He teetered on the edge momentarily before backflipping to another dome, and then another, while Anakin followed close behind.

Thus they fought, dancing and leaping over the smoking rooftops of Theed, their lightsabers flickering between them. 

Anakin ducked another strike at his head, wincing at the viciousness behind the blow, but striking back just as hard, if only to gain a little breathing room. Obi-wan was relentless, each attack calculated and precise just like Anakin remembered from sparring, but with an edge of rage that had already singed his borrowed robes and left burn marks against his arms and shoulders. 

_I might not be able to beat him,_ Anakin realized, angling his lightsaber so that Obi-wan’s repeated over-hand strikes merely slid to the side, instead of splitting him in two. _He’s fighting to kill, while I’m…_

Obi-wan’s ‘saber traced a line of fire across Anakin’s cheek and he cursed, reeling backwards, his own ‘saber raised to deflect an attack that… never came.

He raised his head, blinking away the tears from the dust and the smell of scorched flesh, and met Obi-wan’s frenzied gaze. His former master was stood at the edge of the roof – Anakin belatedly recognized it as the roof of the Royal Spaceport – silhouetted by the fires of the city behind him.

“You will not win, Jedi,” Obi-wan snarled. The silver collar pulsed. “I suggest you don’t even try.”

Anakin’s hands tightened around his lightsaber. “I’d rather not hurt you, Obi-wan, but I will not give in to the Sith. They destroyed _everything_ we worked for, everything _you_ worked for! This…” he waved a hand at the destruction around him. “This isn’t you. _You_ aren’t you.”

Obi-wan tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “This is more like me than you’ll ever know, Jedi. Do not think you can sway me from my duty.”

“And my name is Anakin, Obi-wan. I know you know it.”

At his words, the collar around Obi-wan’s neck pulsed again, and Anakin narrowed his eyes, considering, at the flinch that tightened the lines around Obi-wan’s eyes and stiffened his shoulders. To anyone else, Obi-wan would have seemed rigid and unmoving, but to Anakin… there was a brittle edge to Obi-wan’s posturing, and his heart leapt to see it.

Now if he could just get the collar away from Obi-wan…

Anakin lowered his ‘saber, shifting into a deceptively open stance and smiling mockingly at his former Master. “If you want to kill me so bad. Well… here I am.”

Obi-wan snarled and leapt, lightsaber raised in an overhand strike that Anakin would have found difficult to block even if his own ‘saber was in the perfect position to deflect it. As it was…

He stepped to the side, letting Obi-wan’s rush pass him by, and reached out with the Force, his fingers grasping empty air even as his mind clutched at the edges of the silver collar around Obi-wan’s throat. But somehow the collar _slid_ out from under his reach, tightening defiantly even as the Dark Side surged against Anakin’s shields in response, locking his mind in a maelstrom of power that tore at his shields and sent shrieking pain skittering across the edges of his mind.

For a moment, he thought the screams were coming from him, from his abused and abraded throat, forcing their way out against the barrier of his clenched teeth, _disobeying his will…_

It was Obi-wan screaming.

Anakin flinched, his concentration scattering like water in a sandstorm, and the Dark Side settled to a slow churning, coiling around Obi-wan and the collar like a many-headed snake.

Obi-wan had collapsed to his hands and knees, his chest heaving as he gasped quietly against the cold stone. Even from where Anakin stood, several feet away, he could hear the faint wheezes of Obi-wan’s breathing, and his blood ran cold.

“Obi-wan,” he asked, taking a hesitant step forward. “What happened to you?”

Obi-wan shuddered at Anakin’s words, his hand twitching around the hilt of his ‘saber. Then with a snarl, he slammed the lightsaber blade down into the roof and _shoved_ with the Force until the stone shuddered and cracked, before crumbling into the hangar below.

Anakin cursed as Obi-wan fell out of sight – _again_ – and dove after him, hands outstretched. They landed hard against Queen Soruna’s Nubian cruiser, rebounding off the chromium plating and sliding to the floor in a heap of robes and bruises. 

Obi-wan was the first one up, skittering away with his lightsaber held desperately at guard and with one hand on his throat, covering the collar. 

Anakin shoved himself to standing, his own ‘saber positioned carefully between him and Obi-wan, but his focus was on the collar, and on Obi-wan’s pained and frightened expression.

“Obi-wan,” he said, stepping forward. But Obi-wan stepped away, his gaze fixed on Anakin’s chest. Between them, the Force seethed, the Dark Side scraping at Anakin’s senses with brittle claws even as the Light pressed against his mind like heat of Tatooine’s suns.

This close, Anakin could see _shadows_ writhing underneath the surface of the collar, brought into sharp relief by the conflict in the Force. And though the metal didn’t move, every time a shadow touched the pale skin of Obi-wan’s throat, it left behind a red, raised welt.

Obi-wan seemed frozen, his blank gaze focused at roughly the level of Anakin’s shoulders, but no matter how much Anakin shifted, Obi-wan’s eyes didn’t follow his movements. But every time one of the shadows brushed against his skin, Anakin could see the tension in Obi-wan’s frame ratchet higher.

“It’s hurting you, you know.” Anakin told him, cautiously stepping closer. “I can take it off, but you need to _let_ me.”

The shadows writhed faster, and Obi-wan let out a shuddering sigh and tightened his grip on his lightsaber until the metal casing creaked. The blade flickered, then firmed, and Obi-wan lifted his head to meet Anakin’s gaze.

“I will kill you first.”

This time there was no charge, no sudden rush from Obi-wan that Anakin could defend against. This time there was only the sudden rush of the Dark Side pressing against him, filling up his eyes, his ears, his nose, his _mind_ , and battering against his shields until the hangar faded from view and there was nothing but the pain…

...and the Dark.

Anakin felt cold stone against his knees – though he didn’t remember kneeling – and against his hands – though he didn’t remember setting aside his lightsaber. The Dark Side pressed in against him from every angle, sliding greasily against his mental shields and probing with needle-sharp claw-tips for any weaknesses, any at all, so they could be dragged into the open and laid bare. His mind raged against the intrusion, roaring without sound even as he fought to maintain his shields against the sheer pressure of the darkness that opposed him.

_Give in,_ the Dark was saying, silky-sweet in his ear. _Give in and the pain will stop. The grief will stop. Give in and you will live a long and happy life with the mother of your children, the way you were meant to. Don’t you think the Jedi have cheated you out of enough?_

_They’re the ones who left you in that stasis pod. They were_ afraid _of you. So they left you to rot and to wither and to_ die _, and yet you still defend them._

He felt cold stone beneath his left hand and rubble beneath his right and the faint brush of tattered robes across both… 

_I don’t defend them,_ Anakin snarled. _I’m not doing this for_ them _. I’m doing this for Ahsoka and Padmé and the twins. I’m doing this for_ Obi-wan _._

_Your Obi-wan Kenobi is lost. You cannot save him. You can only join him, or be destroyed._

There was a whispering in his ear, in a voice that he knew _far_ too well…

_There’s still good in him,_ Anakin thought, _I know it, and I_ will _find it. And you can’t stop me, Sidious._

The whispers paused, considering, and Anakin pressed harder against the surrounding Dark.

If any of the Jedi Council had been there, they probably would have told him to be mindful of his feelings, or to settle his mind and marshal his thoughts and his emotions until he was like a reflecting pool, calm and unruffled. But they weren’t there, and Anakin didn’t reach for serenity.

He reached for his griefs, for his angers, and for his frustrations, and he held them close like the burning heart of a star. But he reached for his joys as well – for Padmé and Ahsoka, for Luke and Leia, for all the friends he ever had and for all the friends he ever lost – and he folded them in with the rest until his chest nearly ached with it, until the Light threatened to spill out of him like a supernova.

And then he dropped his shields and let the Darkness in.

It slammed against the star of his emotions like water against lava, until he could almost hear the tortured hiss of the two opposing Forces colliding. Except…no, he couldn’t. The Force had gone silent, it’s rushing fury dying to gentle murmur that brushed against him like the faintest of Nabooian breezes.

He opened his eyes.

The few memories he had of the Royal Starport hangar were tainted with long-faded grief over Qui-gon’s death, and the fear that he would have nowhere to go if Qui-gon didn’t want him; but Anakin’s certain that the hangar didn’t look like _this_.

The marble floor, the columns, the walls, even the _ship_ , had all faded to a dull, insignificant blue-gray that blended together like silt in a riverbed, eclipsed by the twin pillars of flame that stood in front of him.

Sidious _towered_ over him, the fires of his soul reaching nearly to the ceiling, while the spectre of his physical form curled, claw-like, around a heart of deepest shadow. Anakin found himself flinching away from the sight of it, his skin crawling and the hairs on the back of his neck raising like hackles as he forced his gaze over to Obi-wan.

Obi-wan _burned_ , like a Wroshyr tree ablaze in a forest fire, with a thin layer of darkened ash concealing a heart of embers and flame. The shadows from the collar were still coiled there, though now Anakin could see the ends of the shadows passing in and out of Obi-wan’s fire, leaving behind darkened patches that smoldered with a blue-black flame.

The shadows in the collar were writhing faster now, their ends snapping like hungry leeches in Anakin’s direction while Obi-wan did all he could to stand straight against their pull. One of the shadow-leeches strained, stretching and thinning until it was half its usual thickness, until it came within a bare inch of Anakin’s wide-eyed gaze. It hovered there, though Anakin tried to flinch away, then it slid back to join its fellows.

Obi-wan’s collar snapped.

The knot of wriggling shadow-leeches _leapt_ at Anakin, their faceless mouths hungry and grasping, but before they could settle around his throat, his right hand snapped out and clutched at the silver collar in a durasteel fist.

The Force shivered.

Color slowly trickled back into the world, like ink in a pool of water, as the Force receded from Anakin’s senses. Sidious’ towering flame coalesced back into the hunched figure of a man, wizened and deceptively frail, while Obi-wan’s burning Wroshyr tree settled back under his skin, leaving behind a pallid complexion and the wan look of a man pushed too far beyond his limits.

The silver collar was writhing like the shadow-leeches that lay under the metal, though it couldn’t find a purchase against Anakin’s prosthetic hand. If he squinted, he could almost see the shadow leeches mimicking the collar’s ceaseless movement, but then the vision faded, leaving behind only an undulating, articulated collar.

A shuffle of robes pulled Anakin’s attention to Sidious, who had straightened under his cloak and was looking at Anakin with a watchful gaze. No, not watchful... _afraid_. 

Anakin’s sense of the Dark Side had faded during the vision – true-seeing? – but with each flail of the collar, it crept back into being, centering itself on the collar. 

Whatever it was, Anakin realized, whether it was a Sith artifact or something no Jedi had ever discovered; Sidious had deliberately fastened the collar around Obi-wan’s neck, turning him from a Jedi Master into something _else_. 

Anakin’s fist clenched, metal grinding against metal, until almost against his will, the shining star of his emotions exploded outwards, scorching his senses and enveloping him in a nimbus of almost pure light. Caught within the supernova, the collar and its shadow-leeches shivered and wriggled as the metal slowly began to turn red, then orange, then white, until the links of the collar dripped like wax over his fingers and the shadow-leeches blew away like wisps of smoke.

When Anakin was done shaking the last of the vile collar off his fingertips – now gleaming metal instead of synthleather – he glanced at the spot where Sidious had been standing, his eyes narrowing at the now-empty stone. Then Obi-wan groaned, his body in a heap on the floor, and Anakin stepped over a small pile of rubble to kneel at his side. 

He reached for the Force, but retreated when a flash of pain seared across his vision, leaving spots in its wake. Instead, he carefully reached out with his left hand to check Obi-wan’s pulse, which was steady but weak.

Despite the brush of Anakin’s fingertips against his neck, Obi-wan didn’t stir – though with the sunken shadows under his eyes, Anakin wasn’t surprised. Still, he gripped Obi-wan’s too thin wrists with one hand, and bound them together with a few ties he found in his belt-pack.

“ _–eral Skywal– Sir. Do y– copy? D– py?_ ” his comlink crackled. 

“I copy,” Anakin replied, tying Obi-wan’s boots together. “Rex is that you?”

“ _Fives, sir_ ,” the comlink rattled. “ _What’s your position?”_

“Theed Royal Starport. Main Hangar.” He glanced down at Obi-wan’s prone form. “Bring extra binders. We’ve got a guest coming in.”

“ _Copy that, sir. We have a shuttle inbound on your position. Fives out._ ”

Elsewhere he could still hear the chaos of fighting, rising like a shroud over the city to mingle with the lingering smoke from hundreds of fire. He entertained the idle thought of leaping back into the fray and liberating Theed singlehandedly, but with Obi-wan’s chest rising and falling under his palm and a shuttle incoming, he did nothing more strenuous than settling on the dusty stone and pulling his friend’s head into his lap.

Unbidden, his fingers found their way into Obi-wan’s hair – despite the grease and grit of a long captivity – and he rested them there, trying to quell the vague feeling of unease that still lingered at the back of his teeth and between his shoulders.

The feeling didn’t disperse when the Rebel soldiers loaded Obi-wan onto a restraint-ridden stretcher. Nor did it disperse once they’d secured him in a specialty med-bay aboard one of the fleet ships. If anything, it merely settled into place, like a tooka-cat in a patch of sun, leaving behind the general feeling of disquiet in all who passed by Obi-wan’s cell.

_Well,_ Anakin thought as he stared searchingly through the observation window. _This will be interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> This fic will update every Wednesday until finished.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do after the hammer falls?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, everyone, for reading and enjoying this fic of mine. A sequel is planned, though it'll be a while before being published I'm afraid. 
> 
> Also thanks again to tumblr user: [notbecauseofvictories](http://notbecauseofvictories.tumblr.com/), whose [poem](http://notbecauseofvictories.tumblr.com/post/60424664963/for-liy-on-or-a-little-after-her-birthday-by) inspired the title of this story.

**Ahsoka**

She found Anakin in _Home One_ ’s detention block, his gaze fixed on the bundled figure still lying slumped on the slab that functioned as a cot inside the cells.

“How is he?” she asked, coming up beside him.

Anakin grimaced. “Still drugged.”

“Drugged?”

“He crushed one of the med droids that came to check on him, so they pumped gas into the cell.”

“So he’s not…” Ahsoka winced at her phrasing, but said it anyways. “He’s not Obi-wan?”

Anakin sighed, his head falling forward until it thudded against the transparisteel observation window. “He’s still a Dark-sider, yes. Even with that kriffing collar off.” His shoulders slumped. “...did Padmé send you?”

“No, she’s holding off the rest of the Rebellion. Apparently they’re...not happy.”

The Force shivered slightly at her words, but Anakin did nothing more than throw a glance in her direction. “We got them Naboo, didn’t we?”

“We did, yes, but…” She sighed. “The Empire’s in chaos. No one knows where Palpatine went, not even the Imperial Military. The different leaders of the Rebellion are calling for your head because you didn’t kill him. And a number of systems have moved from rebellion to outright war, while the Imperials are still hitting back as hard as they can to try and stop them.” She lowered herself to the floor. “As you can guess, that’s not going too well.”

Anakin stared at her, his face unreadable, before settling himself on the decking beside her, though she could tell that a part of him was still focused on the cell. “The _Rebellion_ is after my head?”

“They’re complaining that you didn’t kill Palpatine when you got the chance. That you gave up because Palpatine offered an exchange or something.” Her nose wrinkled. “Thankfully Padmé nixxed _that_ right away. Now they’re just complaining that you didn’t follow the mission parameters.”

“They wanted Palpatine off Naboo. He’s off Naboo.” His mouth twisted into a near-snarl. “If they’d wanted an assassin, maybe we should go dig up Ventress. Or hells, they could have gone to fight him themselves. Force knows I could use the amusement.”

Ahsoka winced.

“I’m…” Anakin sighed. “I’m not mad at you, Snips. But I honestly didn’t think the Rebellion would end up like the Order.”

“They’re… frustrated,” Ahsoka told him, “and angry. But you’re right. You’re not an assassin.” She knocked her shoulder against his. “We’ll figure this out, Skyguy. We always do.”

“Maybe,” Anakin replied, staring at the cell again. “But normally we have Obi-wan to help us. Now…” He fell silent again, the Force settling around him like a shroud.

Ahsoka also looked at the cell, though her stomach crawled at the sight of Obi-wan – kind, bright Obi-wan – curled tightly around his wounds.

But despite the steady focus of his former friends, Obi-wan never stirred.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shuttle landed under the cover of storms, which lashed the lone, gray tower in a pitiless frenzy. The tower’s protective shields were raised, but not before rain and sleet left a sprawling puddle across the hangar floor and a lone, soaking technician, scurried out to be able to greet the shuttle’s occupant.

“Your excellency,” the technician stuttered. “We hadn’t expected you to visit quite so soon and–”

“Is it finished?”

“Unfortunately my lord we’ve hit a few unfortunate...er...snags.”

“Where is Director Krennic?”

“He is overseeing preparations for the weapon, your excellency. He..uh…” The technician shook as a cold, dark gaze glared at him from under a concealing hood. “He thought it would be best if the work never stopped. N– not even for you, my lord.”

“Prepare my quarters. And tell Director Krennic that I wish to see him as soon as I’ve arrived there.”

“Of course, my lord. Right away.”

The technician scurried away, his hands shaking and a cold sweat battling slinking down his spine, colder than even the rain-chilled clothing plastered to his spine.

Lightning flashed, and the technician quickened his pace, heading for the lone, small door at the far end of the hangar, even as a long dark shadow reached out from the wizened figure walking in slow, measured steps along the hangar floor. 

The technician bolted through the door just as another flash of lightning brightened the hangar, though the shadow still remained. He was nearly running now, dashing around corners and narrowly avoiding other technicians and engineers and workers and stormtroopers until he skidded to a halt in front of an unassuming door set in the center of an unassuming hallway.

The door was the same color of the corridor around it, but still the technician smoothed his hair down and straightened his jacket to the best of his ability before knocking timidly on the cold metal.

“Sir?” he said once the door had slid open. “The Emperor is here.”

There was a wheeze, like a bellows creaking, and a voice with a mechanized reverberation replied. “I see.”

Another wheeze.

“Make sure all the preparations are in place, Lieutenant,” Director Krennic responded, his eyes glinting silver over a re-breather mask. “We have a weapon to finish, and scarce enough time to finish it.”

“Yes sir,” the technician stammered. “Right away.”

The door hissed shut, leaving Krennic reclined on his hoverchair, his dull-metal eyes staring distantly through the small window at the sheeting rain.

“Starkiller will be realized, my lord,” he muttered. “I swear it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my betas: imaginary_golux and turn_of_the_sonic_screw for their help with this monster of a fic.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr, my username is [starbirdrampant.](https://starbirdrampant.tumblr.com)


End file.
